LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 

PRINCETON.  N.  J. 


PRESENTED  BY 


Princeton  University  Library 


Division 
Section . . 


3  \3  H 


!-  f?  J  ;»&&■. 


^  '  / v     A  ^ 


fiU^y^- 


1 


y  ^vlNFTeZ^ 


^OFLSSOR   OF   THEOLOGY   IN 


SKETCHES 


OF 


ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 


BY  REV.  JTB?\VATEEBUEY,  D.  D. 


'Now  then  we  are  ambassadors  for  Christ. 


•» 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 
AMERICAN   TRACT    SOCIETY, 

150  NASSAU-STREET,  NEW  YORK. 


V 


>>> 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 
the  American  Tract  Society,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District 
Court  of  the  Southern  District  of  the  State  of  New  York. 


\% 


£ 


CONTENTS 


PAGE. 

DR.  JOHN  M  MASON, - -      5 

DR.  ARCHIBALD  ALEXANDER, - 14 

REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFLELD, 23 

REV.  SYLVESTER  EARNED,  - 33 

DR.  ASAHEL  NETTLETON, - ---     42 

DR.  LYMAN  BEECHER,  -- - ---     52 

DR.  HENRY  B.  BASCOM,--- - 64 

DR.  EDWARD  PAYSON, - --- -     73 

DR.  EDWARD  DORR  GRIFFIN,  -- - 82 

DR.  ROBERT  HALL,  -- 90 

DR.  THOMAS  CHALMERS,  -- - 101 

REV.  HENRY  MELVLLL,  -- 112 

REV.  ROWLAND  HILL, - ■*-  119 

REV.  LEGH  RICHMOND, 127 

DR.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT, -- 139 

REV.  JONATHAN  EDWARDS, 151 

REV.  GEORGE  WHTTEFIELD, - --- 163 

REV.  RICHARD  BAXTER, 173 

REV.  JOHN  BUNYAN,  -- - 183 

REV.  JAMES  SAURIN, - - 195 

JOHN  BAPTIST  MASSILON, 201 

MARTIN  LUTHER, 214 

THE  APOSTLE  PAUL, 229 


'PUPUCL'3RAR>i 


SKETCHES 

OF 

ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 


BR.  JOHN  M.  MASON. 

Taken  altogether,  no  American  preacher 
has  combined  more  impressive  qualities.  His 
aspect  was  on  a  scale  of  grandeur  correspond- 
ing to  the  majesty  of  mind  within.  We  always 
feel  a  sort  of  pleasing  approbation  where  the 
symmetry  of  form  and  features  tallies  with 
a  dignified  interior.  It  was  emphatically  so  in 
the  case  of  Dr.  Mason.  Tall,  robust,  straight, 
with  a  head  modelled  after  neither  Grecian 
nor  Roman  standard,  yet  symmetrical,  com- 
bining the  dignity  of  the  one  and  the  grace  of 
the  other ;  with  an  eye  that  shot  fire,  especially 
when  under  the  excitement  of  earnest  preach- 
ing, yet  tender  and  tearful  when  the  pathetic 
chord  was  touched ;  with  a  forehead  broad  and 
high,  running  up  each  side,  and  slightly  parted 


6  ELOQUENT    PKEACHEES. 

in  the  middle  by  a  graceful  pendant  of  hair;  a 
mouth  and  chin  expressive  of  firmness  and  de- 
cision, Dr.  Mason  stood  before  you  the  prince 
of  pulpit  orators.  His  voice,  for  compass  and 
flexibility,  was  scarcely  exceeded,  one  would 
think,  by  that  of  the  renowned  Demosthenes. 
It  would  fill,  without  effort,  the  largest  build- 
ing. Its  lower  utterances  were  musical,  pos- 
sessing the  qualities  of  a  rich  baritone.  His 
ordinary  or  conversational  tone  was  so  clear 
and  distinct,  that  every  word  reached  the  most 
distant  hearer;  and  when  he  rose  under  the 
excitement  of  discourse  to  the  loftier  notes, 
his  voice  rang  through  the  building  like  the 
clangor  of  a  trumpet. 

Over  the  whole  man  there  was  an  air  of 
sacred  heroism.  He  would  have  commanded 
an  army,  and  led  them  himself  into  the  deadly 
breach.  He  would  have  confronted  the  ma- 
terial universe*  in  a  good  cause,  and  maintained 
his  position  in  face  of  the  fiercest  opposition. 
Had  he  been  a  senator  or  barrister,  how  would 
the  thunders  of  his  eloquence  have  awed  every 
hearer,  and  given  him  the  palm  of  secular  ora- 
tory, as  by  universal  consent  he  bore  away  that 
of  the  pulpit. 

Many  were  the  advantages  which  this  dis- 


DR.  JOHN   M.  MASON.  7 

tinguishecl  minister  enjoyed,  all  tending  to 
that  perfection  of  mind  and  manner  which 
gave  him  so  marked  a  priority  among  his  con- 
temporaries. The  son  of  an  eminent  clergy- 
man, he.  was  trained  most  assiduously  by  pa- 
rental care  and  counsel.  He  was  sent  to  com- 
plete his  studies  to  the  highest  schools  of  sacred 
learning  in  Edinburgh.  He  had  the  talent  and 
the  determination  to  make  the  most  of  these 
advantages.  His  mind  became  liberalized,  as 
well  as  stored  with  varied  learning;  so  that 
when  he  began  his  career  in  New  York,  it  was 
not  a  slow  growth,  but  an  astounding  perfec- 
tion. It  was  like  Minerva  springing  from  the 
.  head  of  Jupiter,  all  armed  for  the  contest. 

He  created  a  sensation  at  the  very  first, 
and  was  chosen  by  acclamation  to  be  the  suc- 
cessor of  his  father.  The  church  being  too 
small  to  accommodate  those  who  wished  to 
hear  him,  another  of  ampler  dimensions  was 
erecte'd.  What  crowds  hung  upon  his  lips,  as 
meanwhile  by  courtesy  he  occupied  the  Cedar- 
street  Presbyterian  church.  When  the  Mur- 
ray-street edifice  was  completed,  the  imperial 
preacher  took  the  pulpit,  and  dedicated  the 
house  to  God  and  to  His  truth.  The  pulpit  or 
rostrum  was  a  novelty.     It  was  a  stage,  with 


8  ELOQUENT   PREACHERS. 

an  elevated  cushion  in  front;  and  it  inaugu- 
rated a  new  style,  since  generally  copied.  The 
old  tub  pulpit  would  never  have  clone  for  Dr. 
Mason.  Thanks  to  him  that  for  the  most  part 
it  is  now  numbered  with  the  things  that  were.1 
It  is  said  that  the  doctor,  upon  being  rallied 
on  preaching  from  a  stage,  replied,  "Why 
should  the  devil  have  all  the  best  advantages 
for  public  speaking  ?" 

But  he  made  a  mistake  in  the  location  of  his 
stage  pulpit,  which  proved  detrimental  to  his 
new  enterprise.  He  placed  it  between  the 
doors.  Hence  everybody  who  entered  was 
exposed  to  the  gaze  of  the  whole  congregation. 
This  was  more  than  a  modest  man  could  en- 
dure, to  say  nothing  of  the  more  sensitive  sex. 
It  brought  also  all  the  nearest  and  most  eligi- 
ble seats  into  requisition  first,  and  who  could 
thread  his  way  up  under  a  thousand  eyes  to 
the  back  tier?  The  rear  pews,  even  under 
the  attraction  of  Dr.  Mason's  oratory,-  were 
scarcely  ever  all  filled.  By  this  arrangement 
also  he  was  exposed  to  the  noise  of  those  com- 
ing in  late,  slamming  the  doors,  and  striding 
up  the  aisles  with  heavy  tread.  This  would 
sometimes  occur  after  the  service  had  com- 
menced, and  occasionally  even  during  the  in- 


KEV.  JOHN   M.  MASON.  9 

troduction  of  the  sermon.  The  doctor  was 
greatly  annoyed  by  these  interruptions.  We 
remember  a  terrible  rebuke  administered  by 
him  to  a  pert  young  dandy,  who  had  more  brass 
on  his  heels  than  sense  in  his  head.  This  self- 
complacent  young  man  threw  open  the  door 
with  an  air,  and  then  strutted  along  directly  in 
front  of  the  pulpit,  taking  the  direction  of  the 
middle  aisle.  The  preacher  was  just  in  his 
introduction.  He  paused.  He  fixed  his  keen 
eye  on  the  obtruder,  the  congregation  mean- 
while silent  as  death,  and  pitying  the  victim, 
whose  brass  heels  were  the  only  sound  heard 
as  he  sought  refuge  in  the  distant  pew.  Turn- 
ing, he  faced  the  preacher,  when,  with  a  pecul- 
iar expression,  the  doctor  made  him  a  low  bow, 
and  proceeded  with  his  discourse.  If  he  had 
shot  an  arrow  at  the  youngster,  he  could  not 
have  made  him  feel  worse.  At  the  close  of 
the  exercises  he  requested  the  audience  to  be 
seated.  They  knew  something  was  coming. 
He  began  upon  the  brazen  heels,  more  becom- 
ing horses  or  asses  than  men,  and  the  impu- 
dent interruptions  which  they  caused.  He 
told  them  they  must  not  come  with  their 
horse-shoe  appendages,  clattering  up  the  aisles 
on  the  naked  floor ;   adding  in  a  low  but  em- 

l* 


10  ELOQUENT    PKEACHEES. 

phatic  tone,  "More  shame  that  they  are  naked." 
Carpeted  aisles  had  not  then  come  into  fash- 
ion. Perhaps  the  doctor's  gentle  hint  has- 
tened their  introduction.  Poor  young  man ! 
he  was  made  the  text  of  a  terrible  peroration. 
We  thought  he  would  not  soon  forget  the 
application. 

The  mistake  of  pulpit  between  the  doors 
was  however  made,  and  some  churches  were 
inconsiderate  enough  to  follow  the  fashion ;  but 
all  had  ultimately  to  remodel.  If  the  devil 
was  spited  by  the  adoption  of  the  stage  pulpit, 
he  took  his  revenge  in  putting  it  where  it  could 
do  the  least  harm  to  his  kingdom. 

Dr.  Mason  was  great  in  familiar  exposition. 
He  devoted  half  the  Sabbath  service  to  this 
method.  He  expounded  the  Scriptures  as  no 
man  of  that  day  could.  He  was  learned,  de- 
vout, intensely  earnest,  with  mingled  touches 
of  pathos  and  caustic  satire  that  kept  the  mind 
on  a  stretch,  and  made  one  feel  that  of  all  the 
books  in  the  world  there  was  none  that  ap- 
proached the  Bible,  in  its  knowledge  of  men  as 
well  as  of  God.  His  congregation  was  a  great 
Bible-class;  and  he,  their  teacher,  led  them 
through  the  green  fields  of  spiritual  pasturage, 
cropping  at  every  step  the  nutritious  herbage. 


REV,  JOHN    M.MASON.  11 

This  method  gave  opportunity  for  the  full  play 
of  his  great  faculties.  Reason,  imagination, 
wit,  satire,  all  were  by  turns  brought  into  requi- 
sition. It  was  a  feast  to  listen  to  him.  Ever 
and  anon,  as  the  occasion  offered,  he  would 
rise  to  heights  of  eloquence  almost  celestial. 
His  great  command  of  language,  his  intense 
emotion,  his  easy,  extemporaneous  utterance, 
made  it  as  delightful  as  it  was  instructive  to 
listen  to  these  sacred  homilies. 

He  was  great  also  as  an  occasional  preacher. 
Charity  sermons  were  his  delight.  His  big  soul 
revelled  in  the  pleas  and  arguments  for  a  god- 
like benevolence.  Woe  to  the  miser  who  hap- 
pened in  on  such  occasions.  Woe  to  the  self- 
ish heart  that  loved  to  decorate  and  gratify 
only  itself  and  its  own  home  circle,  while  it 
had  no  bestowments  for  the  less  endowed.  His 
scathing  rebukes  left  no  secret  apologies  unex- 
plored ;  and  men  were  forced  in  self-defence  to 
do  violence  to  their  selfish  nature,  and  give 
where  they  would  have  gladly  withheld. 

When  this  pulpit  orator  succumbed  to  the 
attacks  of  disease,  brought  on  by  labors  too1 
abundant,  it  was  like  the  forest  oak  struck  by 
a  thunderbolt.  The  outward  majesty  was  still 
visible  ;  but  the  vital  principle  had  received  a 


12  ELOQUENT  PBEACHEBS. 

shock  under  which  the  leafy  glories  were  man- 
ifestly withering  and  dying.  The  glory  of  man, 
what  is  it?  "The  wind  passeth  over  it,  and  it 
is  gone.  Thou  makest  our  beauty  to  consume 
away  as  a  moth.  Surely  every  man  is  vanity." 
But  this  good  man  was  not  afraid  of  evil  tidings. 
His  life  had  been  one  continued  application 
for  the  conservation  of  truth  and  the  upbuild- 
ing of  Zion.  He  lived  long,  judging  from  the 
good  accomplished ;  and  never  was  the  saluta- 
tion, "Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant," 
more  appropriate. 

Dr.  Mason  was  not  faultless.  He  himself 
would  have  been  the  last  man  to  set  up  such  a 
claim.  A  deeper  penitence,  a  more  self-abas- 
ing confession,  never  was  heard  than  that  which 
flowed  from  his  lips  in  prayer.  Conscious  of 
his  sins  and  infirmities,  he  was  far  more  ready 
to  upbraid  himself  than  any  of  his  personal  en- 
emies could  have  been  to  condemn  him.  His 
lofty  pride  of  character;  his  deep  loathing  of 
every  thing  like  hypocrisy  or  sycophancy  ;  his 
love  of  country,  so  intense  as  to  scorn  and 
denounce  the  mere  partisan  politician  and  dem- 
agogue, led  some  to  call  in  question  his  piety. 
But  they  were  ignorant  of  what  true  piety  is. 
They  made  no  allowances  for  constitutional  dif- 


BEV.  JOHN    M.  MASON.  13 

ferences  or  for  human  infirmity.  ' '  They  spake 
evil  of  those  things  which  they  knew  not."  All 
who  know  what  true  piety  is,  who  see  its  de- 
velopment through  varying  natural  character- 
istics, are  prepared  to  estimate  Dr.  Mason's 
religion  as  they  would  the  man's  after  God's 
own  heart,  or  any  other  good  man's — carrying 
their  investigation  through  a  life  not  spotless, 
not  perfect,  yet  aiming  at  it;  and  so  judging, 
by  the  rule  of  gospel  charity  they  cannot  deny 
to  Dr.  Mason  the  claim  of  a  noble  Christian 
man,  as  well  as  a  sublime  pulpit  orator. 


H  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 


DR.  ARCHIBALD  ALEXANDER. 

My  first  sight  of  Dr.  Alexander  was  in 
1822,  at  Princeton.  Carrying  the  usual  rec- 
ommendations for  entering  the  seminary,  he 
received  me  more  in  the  style  of  a  father  than 
a  professor.  His  smile  of  welcome  I  shall  nev- 
er forget.  His  countenance  attracted  rather 
than  awed  me.  I  saw  goodness  rather  than 
greatness — the  artlessness  of  childhood  pro- 
jected into  the  gravity  of  years,  and  a  benev- 
olence that  won  upon  me  at  first  sight.  Sub- 
sequent intercourse  more  than  justified  these 
first  favorable  impressions. 

His  personal  appearance  was  neither  ma- 
jestic nor  striking.  He  would  have  passed 
perhaps,  in  a  crowd,  unnoticed.  Below  the 
medium  height,  of  slim  proportions,  he  owed 
his  distinction  almost  entirely  to  his  mental 
calibre  and  high  moral  qualities.  Yet  in  that 
countenance  dwelt  the  unmistakable  signs  of 
genius  and  the  reflected  gleams  of  a  soul  in 
habitual  converse  with  heaven.  His  forehead 
was   ample,  running  high  over  the  temples, 


DE.  ARCHIBALD   ALEXANDER.  15 

marked  with  lines  of  thought ;  and  when  the 
dark  iron-gray  hair  was  combed  aside,  allow- 
ing the  full  expanse  to  be  seen,  there  was  some- 
thing in  it  that  riveted  one's  attention.  But 
the  speaking  features  were  the  eye  and  the 
mouth.  The  former  was  small,  dark,  and  very 
bright,  almost  piercing  at  times.  It  was  sus- 
ceptible of  varied  expression.  It  gave  the  in- 
ward emotions  with  telegraphic  accuracy  and 
quickness.  All  have  heard  of  laughing  eyes. 
Dr.  Alexander's  had  that  peculiarity.  When 
excited  to  joy  and  merriment,  his  very  eyes 
seemed  to  laugh.  His  mouth  too  was  full  of 
playful  expression  at  times,  which,  though 
checked  by  motives  of  expediency,  revealed 
nevertheless  a  fountain  within  of  unbounded 
humor.  A  more  artless  and  expressive  medi- 
um of  sincere  and  varied  emotions  no  face  ever 
presented.  We  used  to  sit  and  study  it  until, 
sometimes,  it  seemed  to  wear  a  glory  such  as 
the  great  masters  give  to  their  pictorial  saints. 
He  was  at  this  time  between  fifty  and  sixty 
years  old,  but  had  lost  none  of  his  power ;  in 
fact,  he  was  just  then  at  the  very  height  of  his 
influence.  When  a  young  preacher  he  must 
have  been,  as  indeed  we  know  he  was,  un- 
boundedly  popular.     His   delicate   yet  well- 


16  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEBS. 

proportioned  frame,  his  symmetrical  and 
speaking  features,  with  his  ardent  tempera- 
ment and  brilliant  rush  of  thought,  must  have 
chained  his  audience,  and  sent  a  thrill  of  de- 
light through  their  bosoms.  In  a  journey  which 
he  took  when  a  young  man,  with  Rev.  Dr. 
Kollock,  through  the  New  England  states,  it  is 
said  that,  although  Dr.  Kollock  was  a  Cory- 
phaeus among  pulpit  orators,  yet  that  audiences 
hung  upon  the  lips  of  the  youthful  Alexander, 
if  not  with  as  much  astonishment,  yet  with 
more  and  deeper  feeling.  This  power  it  would 
seem  had  not  diminished  with  the  lapse  of  time. 
Without  losing  the  ardor  of  youth,  he  now  car- 
ried into  the  pulpit  the  experience  of  years 
and  the  resources  of  learning. 

But  before  we  proceed  to  characterize  his 
preaching,  let  us  take  a  look  at  him  in  the  lec- 
ture-room. Here  he  was  at  home  ;  and  here 
the  students  came  into  direct  contact  with  his 
spirit  and  his  intellect.  He  was  not  always 
alike  interesting  ;  nor  did  he  always  succeed 
in  keeping  alive  the  attention  of  his  pupils. 
He  seemed  never  to  try — never  to  work  against 
his  own  present  frame  of  feeling.  He  let  na- 
ture have  her  own  way.  If  he  was  nervous 
and  low-spirited,  he  knew  it  and  felt  it.     He 


DR.  ARCHIBALD  ALEXANDER.  17 

came  in  with  the  nightmare  upon  him  ;  he 
looked  gloomy;  he  spoke  as  one  struggling 
with  some  unseen  spectre,  and  went  through 
his  task  as  well  as  he  could.  We  sympathized 
with  him;  we  too  felt  the  gloom.  But  again 
he  would  enter  with  eyes  sparkling,  and  as- 
cend the  platform  with  a  spring.  His  face  was 
radiant ;  the  spectre  had  been  exorcised  ;  he 
was  now  all  sunshine  ;  he  dealt  out  the  stores 
of  wisdom,  and  sprinkled  them  with  the  dia- 
mond-dust of  beautiful  fancies.  He  would 
illustrate  with  anecdotes,  and  play  about  his 
subject  with  all  the  force  of  a  fond  affection. 
The  lecture-room  was  luminous  at  such  times. 
Interrupt  him !  no  matter  ;  he  was  not  dis- 
pleased; he  would  take  a  new  excursion  in 
reply.  Dr.  Alexander  was  great  at  such  times : 
and  great  was  the  pleasure  we  experienced. 
"Hose  olim  meminisse  juvabit.77 

His  forte  lay  in  a  clear  statement  of  truth, 
with  a  just  appreciation  of  its  possible  limits. 
His  philosophy  never  carried  him  beyond  these 
limits.  Here  he  would  pause,  and  take  refuge 
in  the  simple  verities  of  G-od's  word.  As  a 
reader  of  the  Scriptures,  and  especially  as  an 
expounder,  he  was  uncommonly  forcible.  He 
would  usually  turn  to  one  of  the  Psalms  of  Da- 


18  ELOQUENT   PREACHERS. 

vid.  With  his  finger  on  his  temple,  resting 
his  head  on  his  hand  and  elbow,  he  would 
slowly  enunciate  the  sentences,  seeming  to  be 
himself  studying  into  their  meaning.  A  new 
thought  would  strike  him.  As  he  caught  it, 
how  his  eye  would  sparkle  !  That  thought  was 
ours.  It  was  as  if  a  man  had  suddenly,  in 
digging,  turned  up  a  nugget  of  gold.  His  soul 
seemed  fairly  to  revel  in  these  inspired  lyrics. 
David's  harp  never  sounded  sweeter  than  when 
its  chords  vibrated  through  the  expressed  emo- 
tions of  our  venerated  teacher.  His  prayers 
too — how  simple  ;  how  direct ;  as  if  he  saw 
Grod !  How  touching,  sometimes,  were  they, 
when  the  plaintive  feelings  of  his  burdened 
heart  sought  an  outlet  at  the  mercy-seat. 

Stepping  with  him  from  the  more  familiar 
professorial  chair  to  the  more  formal  and  ele- 
vated pulpit,  let  us  contemplate  him  as  the 
preacher  of  righteousness.  If  you  looked  for 
great  sermons,  in  the  common  acceptation  of 
the  term,  you  would  be  disappointed.  No 
wreaths  of  flowery  eloquence  were  woven  by 
him.  No  prismatic  .hues  danced  on  the  walls 
of  the  sanctuary,  when  he  held  up  the  mirror 
of  divine  truth.  It  was  the  rays  of  pure  white 
light  converging  to  a  focus.     He  carried  into 


DE.  AECHIBALD  ALEXANDEB.  19 

the  pulpit  apparently  a  most  oppressive  sense 
of  his  responsibility.  The  man  was  lost  and 
swallowed  up  in  the  preacher.  Dr.  Alexan- 
der's whole  air  and  aspect  in  the  pulpit  was 
such  as  became  Clod's  ambassador.  His  man- 
ner was  characterized  by  a  charming  simplic- 
ity. It  was  all  nature.  It  seemed  to  say,  I 
shall  preach  to  you  just  as  I  feel.  I  am  an  in- 
strument in  God's  hands.  If  he  touch  the 
chords,  they  will  make  music;  if  not,  all  will 
be  discordant  or  lifeless. 

He  seldom  read  his  sermons.  We  have 
known  him  to  do  so  ;  but  he  seemed  to  strug- 
gle through  like  David  with  Saul's  armor  upon 
him.  Usually,  almost  invariably,  he  spoke 
from  short  notes,  flinging  himself  on  the  stream 
of  thought  with  channels  dug  beforehand.  His 
sermons  were  discursive,  but  not  rambling. 
They  had  method,  without  being  very  method- 
ical. His  text  was  a  thread  of  gold  running 
through  the  whole  fabric  of  his  discourse.  He 
was  not  wont  to  take  a  text  as  a  mere  motto, 
and  then  give  us  a  brilliant  essay  or  a  pro- 
found disquisition.  The  sermon  grew  out  of 
the  text,  just  as  the  flower  springs  from  the 
seed,  or  fruit  from  the  bud  and  blossom.  He 
expounded  the  passage ;  told  us  in  beautifully 


20  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

simple  terms  its  meaning.  This  was  opening 
the  gates  which  led  into  the  green  pastures ; 
and  ere  long  we  were  following  him  through 
almost  celestial  landscapes.  "When  the  fit 
was  on  him" — that  is,  when  the  nerves  were 
in  healthful  play,  and  the  soul  had  seen  un- 
usual sights  of  glorious  things — then  did  we  sit 
entranced  under  the  utterances  of  this  almost 
inspired  preacher.  We  knew  in  a  moment 
when  this  was  the  case.  A  certain  halo  seem- 
ed to  settle  around  his  head  and  radiate  from 
his  features.  He  spoke  at  first  slowly,  seem- 
ing to  meditate  on  what  he  was  saying ;  and 
then  another  striking  thought,  and  again  a 
pause.  Then  thought  after  thought  came  more 
rapidly,  in  words  fit  and  impressive — words 
that  in  their  simplicity  and  strength  seemed  to 
press  the  native  Saxon  to  its  utmost  power. 
Now  the  glow  was  upon  him.  The  spectacles 
were  raised  or  snatched  away,  and  that  eye  ot 
intense  brilliancy  shot  forth  its  fires ;  while  the 
voice,  at  first  so  small,  was  waxing,  like  the 
Sinaitic  trumpet,  louder  and  louder,  and  pene- 
trating through  a  phalanx  of  trembling  hearts. 
How  beautifully  soft  were  his  cadences,  as  he 
dropped  on  some  sweet  spot  of  Christian  expe- 
rience, where  joy  and  sorrow  blended,  or  where 


DR.  ARCHIBALD  ALEXANDER.  21 

the  pilgrim  was  wending  his  way  through  the 
valley  of  tears.  How  it  broke  into  peals  of 
triumph  as  he  followed  that  same  pilgrim  up 
to  the  pearly  gates,  and  saw  him  enter  amid 
the  salutations  of  angels  ! 

Dr.  Alexander,  more  than  any  other  man 
we  ever  heard,  delighted  in  experimental  preach- 
ing. He  himself  had  gone  over  the  weary  way, 
explored  its  perils  and  pitfalls,  and  he  knew 
how  sore  were  the  trials  of  the  journey.  He 
knew  all  the  phases  of  Christian  experience, 
and  he  not  only  allured  us  to  higher  worlds, 
but  gloriously  led  the  way.  He  would  startle 
you  at  times  by  putting  his  exploring  finger 
on  the  diseased  parts  of  your  soul,  of  the  ex- 
istence of  which  you  were  before  scarcely  con- 
scious. How  he  loved  to  bring  the  heavenly 
balm  to  those  sore  spots,  and  like  a  gentle 
nurse  soothe  the  moral  patient,  and  show  him 
how  surely  the  good  Physician  would  effect  a 
cure.  We  remember  hearing  him  once  in 
Philadelphia  on  the  temptations  and  trials  of 
the  Christian;  and  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end  of  the  discourse  we  could  not  restrain  our 
tears.  As  he  felt  himself,  so  he  preached.  If 
he  was  in  a  plaintive  mood — a  not  unusual  one 
for  him — a  sweet  sadness,  like  one  walking  in 


22  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

the  twilight,  would  attend  his  words.  If  he 
was  on  the  mount,  thither  he  bore  his  audience 
in  a  sustained  and  glorious  flight.  A  man  of 
strong  impulses,  of  deep  feeling,  his  preaching- 
was  marked  by  inequalities  such  as  usually 
attend  men  of  this  cast  of  character.  We  have 
known  him  fail.  He  himself  knew  it;  and 
after  a  few  struggles  would  close  the  services 
prematurely,  as  if  to  say  to  his  audience,  It  is 
of  no  use  for  me  to  detain  you  here  when  I  am 
not  in  a  frame  to  interest  and  edify  you.  But 
these  were  exceptions.  The  usual  style  was 
one  of  great  power  and  pathos ;  and  then  the 
fear  seemed  to  be  that  he  was  corning  too  soon 
to  a  close.  Great  was  the  privilege  to  sit  at 
the  feet  of  such  a  man  and  such  a  preacher. 


<£ 


x^C^       <z^ 


,  *+..     < 


BEV.  JOHN  SUMMEKFIELD.  23 


REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD. 

Summerfield  was  in  connection  with  the 
Methodist  church,  and  began  his  career  as  a 
preacher  in  England  and  Ireland.  He  was 
very  young  to  commence  preaching,  but  his 
eminent  piety  and  fine  oratory  justified  it. 
His  training  for  the  sacred  calling  was  not  as 
thorough  as  it  should  have  been ;  though  sub- 
sequently, by  diligent  study,  he  supplied  in 
some  measure  the  deficiency.  From  boyhood 
he  had  a  love  for  elocution,  and  was  wont  to 
resort  to  the  courts  and  other  places  of  forensic 
debate,  and  mark  the  peculiarities  of  the  best 
speakers.  Nature  had  given  him  an  exquisite 
taste,  which  instinctively  appropriated  all  the 
fine  passages  which  he  read  or  heard,  and  fixed 
them  in  his  memory.  He  at  length  in  a  hum- 
ble way  began  to  try  his  own  powers,  and  as- 
tonished his  hearers  by  the  variety  and  force 
of  his  eloquence.  Ere  long  the  circle  of  influ- 
ence extended,  and  the  youthful  preacher  be- 
came the  centre  of  admiring  crowds.  He  was 
especially  popular  in  Ireland,  where  the  church 


24  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

was  thronged  whenever  it  was  known  he  was 
to  preach. 

In  person  Summerfield  was  small — scarcely 
of  medium  height,  and  yet  every  way  well 
proportioned.  He  had  a  finely  shaped  head ; 
a  forehead  not  high,  but  broad,  and  of  the 
purest  white,  over  which  usually  lay  aslant  a 
dark  lock  of  hair.  His  eyes  were  peculiar- 
large,  and  deep  blue,  curtained  somewhat  by 
the  upper  lids,  giving  a  pensive  expression, 
with  a  slight,  almost  imperceptible  cast  in  one 
of  them,  which  rather  augmented  than  dimin- 
ished their  expression.  His  mouth  was  the 
perfection  of  shape,  indicating  the  exquisite 
taste  and  poetical  tendencies  which  character- 
ized him.  Some  perhaps  would  have  called 
him  feminine  in  his  aspect.  And  it  must  be 
admitted  that  the  whole  contour  and  air  were 
so  peaceful  as  to  suggest  the  idea.  He  might 
have  been  called  feminine  in  the  loveliness 
and  beauty  of  his  exterior,  but  certainly  he 
was  not  effeminate.  He  had  a  masculine  dig- 
nity of  character  that  shone  through  that  fine 
physical  organism,  commanding  the  respect 
and  admiration  of  all  who  knew  him. 

He  came  to  this  country  with  no  anterior 
fame.     Few  had  heard  of  him,  or  of  the  im- 


EEV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  25 

pression  which  he  had  made  in  England.  He 
was  judged  entirely  upon  his  own  merits.  It 
seems  that  his  relatives  had  made  prepara- 
tions to  emigrate  to  this  country;  and  from 
this  circumstance,  as  well  as  for  the  sake  of 
recruiting  his  energies,  which  had  been  over- 
tasked by  too  much  preaching,  young  Sum- 
merfield  determined  to  visit  America,  and 
make  it  also,  if  circumstances  were  favorable, 
his  adopted  home. 

It  so  happened  that  his  arrival  took  place 
in  the  spring,  at  the  time  when  the  May  anni- 
versaries occur ;  and  the  rumor  of  his  celebri- 
ty getting  abroad,  he  was  invited  to  speak 
before  the  American  Bible  Society.  The 
young  stranger  being  introduced  to  the  plat- 
form, sat,  a  mere  stripling  in  appearance, 
among  grey  heads,  learned  doctors,  and  emi- 
nent civilians.  His  rosy  cheek,  and  almost 
beardless  chin  and  pensive  eye  attracted  at- 
tention, and  many  inquiries  passed  through 
the  audience  concerning  him.  Who  that  young 
and  beautiful  stranger  was,  everybody  was  de- 
sirous of  ascertaining. 

The  venerable  Boudinot  presided.  He 
came  in  late,  wearing  his  black  velvet  cap, 
and  being  assisted  to  the  chair,  proceeded  at 

Eloquent  Preacheri.  2 


26  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

once  to  the  business  of  the  meeting.  The 
speeches  were  eloquent,  and  the  audience  was 
sensibly  moved.  Still  many  an  eye  was  fixed 
on  the  young  stranger,  whose  calm  demeanor 
would  hardly  have  led  one  *to  expect  that  he 
was  to  be  called  up.  But  Summerfield  was 
never  nervously  excited ;  he  had  great  self- 
possession.  It  was  this  that  gave  him  power, 
making  his  best  efforts  seem  like  the  natural 
flow  of  ordinary  discourse.  The  time  now 
came  for  the  President  to  announce  the  pres- 
ence of  a  stranger  from  England,  a  member  of 
the  Methodist  church,  just  arrived,  from  whom 
they  would  be  glad  to  hear.  With  character- 
istic modesty,  but  perfect  self-possession,  he 
rose  and  commenced  his  speech.  There  was 
the  slightest  possible  lisp  in  his  utterance,  not 
damaging — we  rather  thought  aiding — the 
effect ;  while  his  voice  was  as  clear  and  melo- 
dious as  the  notes  of  a  well-played  flute. 

He  began  by  a  reference  to  the  President, 
whose  aspect  and  age  reminded  him  of  one  of 
the  patriarchs ;  and  uttering  a  compliment,  not 
fulsome,  but  delicate,  such  as  the  character  of 
Boudinot  justified,  he  passed  on  to  the  great 
theme,  and  took  the  audience  with  him  to  the 
celestial  heights.      It  seemed  as  if  some  angel 


REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  27 

had  been  suddenly  dropped  in  human  form  in 
the  midst  of  us.  Yet  he  was  flesh  and  blood, 
having  all  the  sympathies  of  our  common  na- 
ture, which  he  brought  into  requisition  as  he 
dilated  now  on  the  bright,  and  now  on  the 
sombre  aspects  of  the  cause  which  he  advocat- 
ed. There  was  every  variety  in  this  speech. 
It  flowed  sweet  and  gentle  as  the  stream  that 
steals  along  the  green  sward,  and  then  broke 
into  the  torrent,  whose  dashing  spray  was  illu- 
minated by  the  prismatic  hues  of  a  brilliant 
fancy.  He  drew  his  pictures  from  nature  and 
from  the  Bible,  never  coloring  too  deep,  nor 
dwelling  too  long,  but  keeping  the  panorama 
in  pleasing  progress.  It  was  a  poetical  speech, 
yet  it  drew  its  inspiration  from  Siloa's  fount. 
It  was  music  such  as  one  would  imagine  flowed 
from  the  vibrations  of  some  angel  harp.  We 
could  have  listened  all  day  to  those  fine  ca- 
dences, and  gazed  on  those  beautiful  images  of 
thought  and  feeling.  When  Summerfield  sat 
down,  we  took  a  long  breath,  and  the  congrat- 
ulatory looks  that  succeeded  were  an  ill  omen 
to  any  speaker  who  might  follow.  This  speech 
stamped  the.  reputation  of  young  Summerfield 
with  the  American  churches.  Everybody  was 
inquiring  where  he  could  next  be  heard. 


28  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

The  Methodists  of  course  took  him  to  them- 
selves at  first.  But  the  crowds  that  flocked 
to  Johu-street  made  it  very  inconvenient  to 
the  regular  worshippers  in  that  church,  as  the}' 
could  scarcely  find  their  way  to  their  own 
pews.  Invitations  from  other  denominations 
began  to  flow  in,  and  soon  the  young  preacher 
was  found  in  Presbyterian  and  other  churches, 
always  thronged  almost  to  suffocation. 

Some  men  can  make  a  good  speech  who 
cannot  preach  a  gpod  sermon;  and  the  ques- 
tion which  naturally  suggested  itself,  after  his 
splendid  debut  at  the  Bible  Society,  was,  Will 
he  be  equally  impressive  in  the  pulpit  ?  But 
that  doubt  was  speedily  removed  when  Sum- 
merfield  exchanged  the  platform  for  the  pulpit. 

- 

In  fact  the  pulpit  was  his  true  position.  No- 
where else  did  his  eloquence  reach  to  so  sub- 
lime a  height,  He  will  be  remembered  by 
the  sermon,  not  the  platform  speech.  Every 
quality  of  mind  and  body,  of  soul  and  spirit, 
fitted  him  for  the  pulpit. 

His  first  sermon  which  the  writer  had  the 
pleasure  of  hearing  was  addressed  to  the  young. 
He  delighted  in  preaching  to  children.  He 
inaugurated  almost  an  entirely  new  style  of 
preaching  to  them,  that  of  question  and  answer, 


EEV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  29 

giving  him  scope  and  keeping  up  the  attention 
of  his  little  auditors.  He  himself  so  youthful, 
with  a  manner  so  winning  and  a  smile  so  play- 
ful, gave  him  the  hearts  of  the  children  at 
once.  Then  his  simplicity  of  diction,  his  fine 
imagination,  drawing  from  the  storehouse  of 
God's  word  its  beautiful  pictures,  amplifying 
them,  and  turning  them  in  every  light  upon 
their  admiring  eyes,  made  him  the  medium  of 
delight  as  well  as  of  instruction. 

Taking  our  chance  with  the  crowd,  we 
were  carried  in  by  the  surging  mass,  and  found 
a  standing  place  in  the  gallery.  Punctual, 
Summerfield  arrived,  and  ascending  the  pulpit, 
he  knelt  a  moment  in  prayer,  and  then  cast  an 
interested  look  over  his  audience.  He  seemed 
to  be  in  a  heavenly  frame.  He  read  the  hymn 
with  those  sweet  intonations  and  that  nice  ap- 
preciation of  the  sentiment  which  touches  the 
heart.  But  his  prayer!  Who  can  describe 
the  pathos,  the  simplicity,  the  unction,  the 
almost  agonizing  earnestness  that  melted  every 
soul  into  sympathy,  and  filled  the  house  with 
an  awful  sense  of  the  divine  presence?  Sum- 
merfield's  prayers  were  worth  as  much  as  his 
preaching.  They  seemed  to  carry  us  on  the 
wings  of  devotion  to  the  third  heaven,  or  to 


30  ELOQUENT  FREACHERS. 

melt  us  in  penitential  sorrow  at  the  foot  of  the 
cross. 

The  text  was,  "They  that  seek  me  early 
shall  find  me."  He  made  them  promise  to 
look  it  up  and  think  upon  it  when  they  should 
return  to  their  homes.  He  repeated  it  with 
new  and  beautiful  variations,  turning  it  in  this 
light  and  that.  He  spoke  of  Solomon  as  a 
youth,  with  a  choice  of  earthly  and  spiritual 
good  set  before  him.  He  nobly  chose  the  lat- 
ter; and  then  God  added  to  him  the  former. 
Now  said  he,  leaning  over  the  desk,  and  in 
the  most  winning  manner,  "Now  tell  me  what 
text  in  the  New  Testament  corresponds  with 
this  decision."  None  could  give  it.  "Have 
you  forgotten  that  our  Lord  said,  'Seek  ye 
first  the  kingdom  of  Grod,  and  all  these  things 
shall  be  added  unto  you?'"  His  quotations 
were  always  pertinent,  and  gave  great  power 
to  his  discourse. 

On  a  certain  Sabbath  he  preached  in  a 
small  church  in  the  eastern  part  of  the  city. 
Even  here  the  crowd  followed  him.  His*  text 
was,  "  He  that  goeth  forth  and  weepeth,"  etc. ; 
from  which  he  said  he  should  consider  the 
weeping  and  the  rejoicing  seasons  of  the  Chris- 
tian.    This  opened  a  fine  field  for  his  sympa- 


REV.  JOHN  SUMMERFIELD.  31 

thetic  soul.  As  with  a  master's  hand  he 
sketched  the  weeping  seasons,  the  whole  place 
became  speedily  a  Bochim.  But  erelong  the 
gleams  of  brightness  began  to  be  flung  around 
the  Christian's  pathway.  The  tears  were  dried 
and  a  heavenly  serenity  succeeded.  He  took 
us  to  the  mount,  gave  us  the  undimmed  eye  of 
Moses,  and  pictured  to  us  the  outspread  glories 
of  Paradise. 

Many  will  remember  the  sermon  in  behalf 
of  the  orphans.  We  obtained  a  seat  in  the 
recess  of  a  window  in  the  gallery.  The  or- 
phans were  seated  on  a  temporary  stage  direct- 
ly in  front  of  the  pulpit,  The  discourse  was 
highly  appropriate,  and  bore  his  audience  along 
on  a  stream  of  flowing  and  sometimes  impas- 
sioned eloquence.  Towards  the  close,  and 
when  the  excitement  was  intense,  the  speaker 
dropping  his  handkerchief  as  a  signal,  the  or- 
phans rose  and  stood  silent  before  the  audience. 
Pointing  to  them,  ''Look,"  said  he  in  his  own 
inimitable  manner;  "let  their  silence  plead." 
There  was  scarce  an  eye  in  that  vast  assembly 
unmoistened.  The  collection  was  the  largest 
that  had  ever  been  taken. 

But  wherein  lay  Summerfield's  power  ?  It 
lay  principally  in  his  deep  unaffected  piety. 


32  ELOQUENT  PREACHEKS. 

He  seemed  to  belong  more  to  heaven  than  to 
earth.  He  was  as  one  apart  from  the  crowd. 
Under  that  calm,  meek,  beautiful  exterior  there 
was  an  almost  angelic  spirit.  He  lived  and 
moved  in  an  atmosphere  of  love.  How  often 
have  we  heard  him  exclaim, 

"If  all  the  world  my  Jesus  knew, 
Then  all  the  world  would  love  him  too." 

This  heavenly  spirit  was  poured  out  upon  his 
audience  in  language  chaste  and  beautiful — in 
a  fervor  that  warmed  and  touched  the  hearts 
of  his  hearers. 

But  this  seraphic  man  ran  his  race  speed- 
ily, and  as  one  has  said,  like  the  torch-bearer 
in  the  Grecian  games,  reaching  the  terminus 
with  it  still  blazing.  His  delicate  framework 
could  not  bear  the  pressure  of  incessant  pul- 
pit labor;  and  the  disease  which  had  been 
latent  for  years,  suddenly  ripened  into  fatal 
strength.  He  died  in  New  York,  where  he 
had  labored  most  and  was  best  appreciated,  at 
the  age  of  twenty-eight;  and  thousands,  the 
writer  included,  went  and  dropped  their  tears 
upon  his  early  grave. 


SYLVESTEE  LAENED.  33 


SYLVESTER  LARNED. 

In  person,  Earned  was  a  model  man.  Not 
tall,  but  strong  built,  with  an  easy,  graceful 
carriage,  and  a  head  that  the  far-famed  Apollo 
might  have  envied.  His  dark  waving  hair 
was  thrown  carelessly  back  from  a  forehead 
broad  and  excessive,  while  his  large  grey  eye 
was  bright  even  in  repose.  His  nose  was  of 
the  Roman  cast,  and  his  mouth  and  chin  were 
expressive  of  the  finest  emotions.  If  Mercury, 
the  imagined  god  of  eloquence,  had  gone  in 
search  of  a  fine  medium  to  sound  forth  in  rap- 
turous tones  the  thoughts  and  emotions  of  th,e 
human  soul,  he  would  have  seized  with  delight 
such  an  instrument  as  this.  His  very  look, 
before  he  uttered  a  sentence,  was  eloquent. 

The  first  time  the  writer  saw  Larned  was 
when  he  presented  himself  before  the  Presby- 
tery of  New  York  to  be  examined  for  licen- 
sure. Another  young  man  was  examined  at 
the  same  time.  This  candidate  was  as  poorly 
as  Larned  was  well  prepared.  Hence  the  lat- 
ter seemed  even  better,  and  the  former  worse, 
than  if  this  contrast  had  not  existed.    But  Lar- 

2* 

; 


34  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

ned  gave  his  answers  with  great  self-posses- 
sion, in  language  exact,  clear,  and  critically 
nice,  proving  himself  at  home  on  all  the  con- 
tested points;  so  that  when  the  question  of 
licensure  came  up,  there  was  but  one  feeling,  that 
of  unqualified  approbation.  Some  of  the  min- 
isters dissented  from  certain  opinions  express- 
ed by  the  candidate,  but  allowed  not  this  differ- 
ence to  hinder  their  cordial  votes  for  his  licen- 
sure. He  stood  up  and  recwed  from  his 
seniors,  in  a  calm  and  serious  manner,  author- 
ity to  preach  the  gospel. 

The  youthful  and  accomplished  orator  made 
his  debut  in  the  city  of  New  York.  The  audi- 
ence, who  knew  not  the  stranger,  saw  passing 
up  the  aisle  a  youth  of  manly  proportions  and 
striking  countenance,  and  were  at  once  pre- 
possessed in  his  favor.  He  rises  in  the  pulpit, 
and  all  is  hush.  The  invocation  is  uttered  in 
a  low,  distinct,  solemn  manner.  Every  word 
is  appropriate,  and  the  very  tones,  so  subdued 
and  devotional,  fall  grateful  on  the  ear.  He 
reads  the  hymn,  a  familiar  one ;  yet  somehow 
the  audience  have  discovered  new  beauties  in 
that  hymn.  Some  nice  shades  of  thought  had 
escaped  them  until  now.  They  had  never 
heard  it  so  read.     What  was  the  magic  ?     It 


SYLVESTEE  LAKNED.  35 

was  not  simply  the  deep  melody  of  that  voice, 
but  an  undefinable  apprehension  of  the  latent 
meaning,  a  soul  sympathy  in  the  very  senti- 
ment of  the  hymn,  which  told  at  once  on  their 
Christian  sensibilities.  He  had  gained  his  au- 
dience. A  death-like  stillness  thenceforward 
prevailed.  He  read  the  Scriptures  as  he  read 
the  hymn,  with  a  certain  freshness  of  feeling 
that  seemed  to  set  the  great  truths  in  new  and 
unobserved  lights.  His  reading  was  a  com- 
mentary. People  glanced  at  each  other  to 
see  if  all  had  experienced  the  same  agreeable 
surprise ;  and  all  had.  Every  eye  turned 
fixedly  on  that  pulpit.  They  adjusted  them- 
selves anew  in  their  seats,  and  so  made  prep- 
aration for  an  enjoyment  which  they  knew  was 
at  hand.  Nor  were  they  disappointed.  He 
named  his  text  from  Acts:  "And  as  he  rea- 
soned of  righteousness,  temperance,  and  judg- 
ment to  come,  Felix  trembled,  and  answered, 
Gro  thy  way  for  this  time ;  when  I  have  a  con- 
venient season  I  will  call  for  thee."  His  first 
sentence  struck  a  key-note  in  the  souls  of  his 
listening  audience,  so  that  every  heart  felt  it,' 
and  felt  it  alike.  There  was  no  sleeping  in 
that  audience.  The  most  stupid  and  indiffer- 
ent roused  up  and  bent  forward  to  catch  the 


36  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

utterances  of  the  youthful  orator.  As  he  pro- 
ceeded the  feeling  deepened,  and  became  at 
length  almost  painfully  exciting.  He  used  no 
notes.  For  Lamed  to  have  bent  over  a  man- 
uscript would  have  embarrassed  his  free,  en- 
ergetic movements  as  much  as  for  a  racehorse 
to  be  encased  in  harness. 

He  pictured  in  this  discourse  the  unright- 
eous Felix,  the  intemperate  or  sensual  Felix, 
and  Felix  standing  with  all  his  accumulated 
guilt  upon  him  at  the  judgment  bar.  He  then 
turned  the  picture  so  as  to  reflect  it  into  the 
bosoms  of  his  hearers.  If  Felix  trembled  under 
Paul,  we  trembled  under  Larned.  If  Felix 
begged  Paul  to  stop,  some  of  us,  I  fear,  would 
almost  have  arrested  the  orator  as  he  tore  his 
way  into  the  secret  heart,  and  by  strokes  of 
terrible  rebuke  made  us  feel  that  we  were  lit- 
tle less  guilty  than  the  notorious  Roman. 
Whether  any  were  converted  under  the  ser- 
mon, we  know  not;  sure  we  are  that  many 
were  convicted.  Possibly,  like  the  great  pro- 
totype of  procrastination,  we  may  have  said 
secretly,  "G-o  thy  way  for  this  time;  when  I 
have  a  convenient  season  I  will  call  for  thee." 
The  eloquent  preacher  closed,  as  was  his  wont, 
by  some  startling  question,  which  rang  like 


SYLVESTEE  LAENED.  37 

the  archangel's  trump  through  the  audience. 
We  held  our  breath,  and  actually  felt  a  relief 
when  the  echo  died  away  in  the  silent  corridor 
of  the  building.  At  the  close  of  the  service, 
as  might  have  been  expected,  every  one  was 
anxious  to  know  who  the  stranger  was  and 
where  he  was  to  preach  in  the  afternoon. 

It  was  ascertained  that  he  would  occupy 
the  pulpit  of  the  Garden-street  church.  Thith- 
er of  course  the  crowd  flocked,  for  it  is  incred- 
ible how  such  news  will  fly ;  and  long  ere  the 
service  commenced  the  pews  .and  aisles  were 
densely  packed.  His  subject  on  this  occasion 
was  repentance ;  text,  "Repent  ye,  and  believe 
the  gospel."  He  dwelt  on  its  nature  and  obli- 
gations. As  in  the  morning,  so  now  every 
thing  was  in  keeping;  the  manner  dignified, 
earnest,  solemn:  the  voice  full,  deep,  melodi- 
ous; the  look  majestic,  heavenly.  The  whole 
soul  beamed  from  every  feature  of  that  speak- 
ing face.  How  quick  was  the  electric  influ- 
ence felt  between  the  pulpit  and  the  pew! 
Every  heart  was  in  the  speaker's  hand.  How 
sublime  are  the  triumphs  of  true  eloquence ! 

In  the  course  of  this  sermon  he  had  occa- 
sion to  refer,  as  a  motive  to  repentance,  to  the 
sufferings  and  death  of  Christ.    The  writer  can 


38  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

never  forget  the  scene.  He  was  a  mere  youth 
at  the  time ;  but  his  heart  had  been  touched 
by  the  love  of  the  Saviour,  and  he  knew  how 
to  appreciate  a  picture  such  as  the  preacher 
drew.  The  audience  had  been  carried  along 
on  the  torrent  of  eloquence,  which  at  length 
flowed  in  the  direction  of  Calvary.  The  preach- 
er, as  he  led  them  towards  that  sacramental 
spot,  began  to  dilate  in  tones  pathetic  on  the 
awful  guilt  which  necessitated  such  sufferings 
on  the  part  of  the  Son  of  God.  His  own  voice 
trembled,  his  eye  grew  moist,  his  utteranpe 
choked;  but  he  kept  on  amid  the  tears  and 
sighs  of  his  audience.  Still  he  kept  on;  and 
turning  to  the  wall  behind  him,  he  drew  on  it 
an  imaginary  cross,  with  its  nails  and  its  crown 
of  thorns,  and  its  pale,  uplifted  victim.  It 
started  out  on  the  cold  blank  as  if  we  saw  the 
actual  scene,  and  scarce  an  eye  in  that  assem- 
bly but  wept  in  sympathy,  if  not  in  penitence. 
We  all  know  how  difficult  it  is  to  describe 
or  picture  forth  such  a  scene,  to  do  any  justice 
to  it.  It  may  be  overdone,  and  so  lose  its  im- 
pressiveness ;  or  it  may  be  done  in  cold  detail, 
and  so  cease  to  reach  the  fountains  of  feeling. 
The  painter  cannot  paint  it,  the  poet  cannot 
put  it  into  numbers,  and  the  orator  makes  a 


SYLVESTEE  LARNED.  39 

daring  attempt  who  presumes  to  sketch  it  be- 
fore a  listening  audience.  But  Larned  ven- 
tured upon  it.  He  knew  his  own  power.  He 
had  a  proper  appreciation  of  just  how  much 
and  how  little  should  be  said.  He  knew  too 
that  he  himself  must  enter  with  all  his  heart's 
sensibility  into  the  scene ;  and  he  did.  He 
said  not  one  word  too  much,  nor  dwelt  one 
moment  too  long.  He  took  us  where  he  himself 
went,  to  the  very  foot  of  the  cross.  He  made 
us  feel  as  if  we  stood  in  sight  of  it — within 
hearing  of  the  sad  death  utterances.  Raising 
his  great  tearful  eyes  towards  it,  he  asked  us 
how  we  could  refuse  to  repent.  The  effect 
was  overwhelming.  It  was  a  bold  attempt  for 
any  preacher,  especially  for  one  so  young. 
But  it  was  no  failure,  as  every  one  who  recol- 
lects the  occasion  will  bear  me  witness. 

The  triumph  of  sacred  eloquence  was  nev- 
er more  marked,  iffany  of  our  most  worthy 
and  influential  citizens  were  present,  and  gave 
unmistakable  proofs,  in  their  fixed  attention 
and  uncontrollable  emotions,  of  the  power 
which  the  young  preacher  wielded.  Near  me 
stood — for  he  could  not  obtain  a  sitting — the 
late  George  Griffin,  then  among  the  most  brill- 
iant advocates  of  the  New  York  bar.    The  tall 


40  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

figure,  with  grey  hair  and  green  goggles,  scarce 
altering  his  posture  during  the  whole  of  the 
discourse,  rapt  in  mute  attention,  showed  now 
and  then  by  the  quivering  of  the  facial  mus- 
cles, how  the  orator  was  exploring  the  depths 
of  feeling  within.  Casting  a  glance  at  this  dis- 
tinguished lawyer,  and  observimHiis  emotions, 
methought  that  with  a  theme  such  as  the  min- 
ister of  the  gospel  possesses,  and  a  heart  alive 
to  its  magnitude,  and  oratorical  powers  of  the 
highest  order,  there  could  not  be  a  more  sub- 
lime scene  than  the  one  here  presented. 

In   conversation   subsequently  with   John 
-Quincy  Adams,  the  subject  of  Larned's  elo- 
quence coming  up,  he  remarked  that  he  had 
never  heard  his  equal  in  the  pulpit. 

Wherever  Larned  went,  the  same  rush  to 
hear  him  and  enthusiastic  admiration  prevail- 
ed. He  was  solicited  to  take  the  first  stations 
with  the  largest  salaried  But  he  refused  all 
these  tempting  offers.  He  had  set  his  heart 
on  a  great  self-denying  enterprise.  Looking 
over  the  wide  extent  of  the  land,  he  thought 
he  heard  the  Macedonian  cry  from  a  city  where 
mammon  and  pleasure  reigned.  Bent  only  on 
duty,  and  regarding  not  the  peril,  he  threw 
himself  with  his  characteristic  energy  into  this 


SYLVESTEE  LAKNED.  41 

new  field.  New  Orleans  was  destitute  in  a 
great  measure  of  evangelical  influence.  This 
determined  Larned  to  make  it  the  field  of  his 
future  labors.  The  decision  gave  great  satis- 
faction to  the  pious,  who  rallied  around  him ; 
and  by  their  efforts  a  beautiful  church  edifice 
was  soon  reared,  and  filled  with  a  respectable 
congregation.  But  alas,  "the  arrow  that  flieth 
by  day"  had  been  prepared;  and  on  the  sec- 
ond summer  of  his  residence  there,  determin- 
ing to  confront  the  dangerous  fever  for  the  sake 
of  his  flock,  that  arrow  reached  his  vitals,  and 
he  fell  a  victim  to  his  self-sacrificing  and  heroic 
devotion.  The  news  sped  through  the  land, 
and  all  Christian  hearts  gave  him  the  tribute 
of  a  sincere  lamentation. 

If  asked  in  what  Larned 's  power  consisted 
as  a  pulpit  orator,  we  should  answer,  in  a 
combination  of  qualities.  His  person,  so  beau- 
tiful and  dignified ;  his  voice,  so  full  of  melody, 
adapting  itself  with  the  nicest  inflections  to  the 
sentiment;  his  just  appreciation  of  the  subject; 
his  soul  of  high  and  generous  mould,  commun- 
ing habitually  with  great  themes ;  his  Christian 
enthusiasm,  enveloping  the  whole  man  with  a 
glowing  atmosphere :  all  these  qualities  com- 
bined to  make  Larned  the  peerless  pulpit  orator. 


42  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 


DR.  ASAHEL  NETTLETON. 

Some  may  express  surprise  at  seeing  the 
name  of  Nettleton  on  the  list  of  eloquent 
preachers.  He  is  remembered  as  a  successful 
revivalist,  as  having  published  the  ■"  Village 
Hymns,"  and  as  occupying  late  in  life  a  com- 
paratively obscure  position  in  a  Theological 
seminary.  What  claim  then  has  he  to  the  dis- 
tinction of  a  pulpit  orator  ?  We  will  explain. 
We  do  not  place  his  claim  on  the  same  grounds 
as  that  of  Mason,  Alexander,  or  Griffin.  He 
possessed  neither  their  learning  nor  their  gen- 
ius ;  but  he  had  no  superior  in  his  day  in  self- 
sacrificing  zeal.  No  preacher  better  under- 
stood the  human  heart ;  none  had  greater  pen- 
etration into  the  phases  of  that  "  deceitfulness 
of  sin "  which  beguiles  the  human  understand- 
ing and  corrupts  the  motives.  If  he  had  stud- 
ied the  didactics  of  religion  less  than  some 
others,  he  had  clear  apprehensions  of  religion 
itself.  If  the  graces  of  oratory  were  not  con- 
spicuous in  his  preaching,  that  which  is  said  to 
be  the  aim  or  end  of  eloquence,  namely,  con- 
viction and  persuasion,  was  never  more  signally 


DE.  ASAHEL  NETTLETON.  43 

t 

illustrated.  The  writer  knew  him  well,  and 
was  'oft  refreshed  under  his  ministry  in  the 
great  revivals  of  1820-21,  while  a  student  in 
Yale  college.  The  whole  city  was  overshad- 
owed with  the  cloud  of  mercy,  and  the  reno- 
vating influences  kept  falling,  more  or  less,  for 
the  space,  of  two  years. 

Originally  Dr.  Nettleton's  intention  was  to 
embark  on  some  foreign  mission;  but  by  the 
force  of  circumstances  this  intention  was  de- 
feated, and  he  found  himself  in  the  work  of 
home  evangelization,  to  which  thenceforward 
his  life  and  labors  were  consecrated.  He  put 
himself  on  the  current  of  events,  and  was  borne 
along  as  by  a  divine  impulse.  He  went  no- 
where without  having,  as  he  supposed,  a  call 
of  Providence.  He  left  when  the  same  myste- 
rious index  finger  pointed  him  away.  From 
every  quarter  invitations  flowed  in  upon  him ; 
but  only  those  were  responded  to  which 
seemed  to  him  to  contain  in  them  the  voice  of 
G-od.  If  the  cry,  "Come  over  and  help  us" 
came  from  a  church  which  was  paralyzed  by 
inaction  or  corrupted  by  worldliness,  he  gave 
it  usually  no  heed.  The  supposition  was  that 
they  were  looking  less  to  the  Almighty  than 
to  an  arm  of  flesh.     Nothing  grieved  him  more 


44  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

than  the  idea,  implied  or  expressed,  that  he 
could  breathe  life  into  dry  bones.  He  regard- 
ed it  both  as  an  insult  to  heaven  and  to  his 
own  understanding.  He !  Why,  there  was 
never  a  more  consciously  impotent  human  in- 
strument. Never  was  there  a  preacher  more 
oluivious  of  self,  nor  one  that  entered  more 
into  the  spirit  of  the  sentiment,  "  Our  suffi- 
ciency is  of  God."  On  one  occasion,  having 
arrived  in  a  town  with  a  view  to  labor  for  the 
upbuilding  of  Zion,  he  overheard  certain  prom- 
inent members  of  the  church  saying  in  an  ex- 
ultant strain,  "Mr.  Nettleton  has  come,  and 
we  shall  have  a  revival  of  religion.77  The  words 
pierced  him  to  the  heart.  He  went  to  his  closet 
and  wept.  He  ordered  his  horse  at  once,  say- 
ing as  he  took  leave,  "I  can7t  stay  here  any 
longer.  The  people  are  in  a  wrong  state  of 
mind.7'  His  absence  created  inquiry^  Chris- 
tians began  to  study  into  the  matter.  They 
saw  their  error  in  looking  to  man  instead  of 
God.  They  repented  and  put  their  faces  in 
the  dust ;  and  soon  the  indications  of  the  Spir- 
it's presence  were  manifest.  Hearing  of  this" 
Mr.  Nettleton  returned  and  preached  to  them 
with  great  zeal  and  success. 

There  was  at  first  view  nothing  in  his  ap- 


DE.  ASAHEL  NETTLETON.  45 

pearance  that  was  striking  or  calculated  to 
arrest  the  attention.  Of  medium  height,  with 
a  somewhat  haggard  look,  large  blue  eyes, 
prominent  Roman  nose,  high  oval  forehead, 
with  light  and  slightly  grey  hair  brought  up 
from  each  side  to  cover  its  baldness,  and  an  air 
of  abstraction,  as  if  conversing  either  with  his 
own  thoughts  or  with  the  great  Invisible,  he 
seemed  always  bent  on  some  object,  near  or 
remote,  connected  with  the  salvation  of  men. 
His  whole  energies  appeared  to  be  working  in 
this  direction.  His  prayers  all  breathed  of 
this.  If  he  was  seen  conversing  with  an  indi- 
vidual, you  might  be  sure  that  he  was  trying 
to  get  into  the  sympathies  of  that  heart,  so  as 
to  reach  it  with  the  truth  of  G-od.  This  he 
did,  not  by  direct  and  blunt  assailment,  but 
gradually  and  gently,  as  the  sunbeam  steals 
into  the  crevice.  His  knowledge  of  men  went 
deeper  than  any  minister's  I  have  known ;  and 
it  was  the  more  marvellous,  as  he  was  never 
known  to  have  mingled  much  in  promiscuous 
society.  There  was  a  sweet  and  attractive 
gentleness  in  his  manners.  He  seemed  to 
have  conquered  all  the  proud,  sensual,  or  irri- 
table feelings.  An  air  of  vestal  purity  sur- 
rounded him.     You  felt  as  if  in  presence  of 


46  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

not  only  an  amiable,  but  a  holy  man.  These 
traits,  by  disarming  prejudice,  made  his  minis- 
try potent  for  good.  In  many  respects  he  re- 
sembled the  apostle  Paul.  The  self-denial,  the 
absolute  self-renunciation,  the  absorption  of  his 
whole  soul  in  his  work,  the  heavenly  mindecl- 
ness,  the  simplicity  and  singleness  of  his  aim, 
all  reminded  one  of  that  apostle.  What  was 
said  of  Paul  by  the  Corinthians,  that  his  pres- 
ence was  weak  and  his  speech  contemptible, 
might  in  some  degree  be  applied,  especially  by 
those  who  judge  of  eloquence  by  shining  qual- 
ities, to  Mr.  Nettleton.  He  lacked  the  grandeur 
of  person  and  of  intellect  which  some  of  the 
great  pulpit  orators  have  possessed.  His  voice 
was  sharp  rather  than  full  or  melodious,  and 
his  gestures,  though  emphatic,  were  ordinarily 
not  graceful.  His  power  as  a  preacher  lay  in 
intense  earnestness.  His  whole  being  was 
concentrated  in  efforts  to  save  the  soul  from 
death.  Out  of  the  pulpit  as  well  as  in  it,  this 
was  evident.  No  man  ever  dreamed  of  attrib- 
uting to  him  any  selfish  ends.  It  was  manifest 
that  the  highest  motives  only  swayed  him.  To 
this  noble,  disinterested  spirit,  more  than  to 
any  graces  of  oratory,  did  he  owe  his  influence 
and  his  success. 


DE.  ASAHEL  NETTLETON.  47 

There  was,  however,  at  times  an  eloquence 
that  rose  above  all  rhetorical  rules,  and  though 
it  dazzled  not  the  fancy,  stormed  and  carried 
the  conscience  and  the  heart.  True,  the  Spirit 
of  God  was  present  to  evoke  it  and  give  it 
power ;  so  that  every  word  told  with  terrible 
emphasis,  and  every  sentence  fell  like  the  hail- 
stones in  Eevelation,  each  one  weighing  a  tal- 
ent, causing  men  to  cry  out  in  audible  accents, 
What  shall  we  do?  Still,  none  who  listened 
on  such  occasions  could  deny  that  for  clear- 
ness, force,  and  pungency,  his  sermons  were 
unequalled.  It  was  the  highest  style  of  pulpit 
eloquence,  for  it  carried  souls  on  its  pure, 
impetuous  current  into  the  divinely  appointed 
ark  of  safety.  There  was  in  it  a  spiritual  ele- 
vation, as  if  G-od  himself  was  speaking — as  if 
the  lips  were  all  aglow  with  a  coal  from  heav- 
en's altar. 

The  preaching  of  this  distinguished  evange- 
list, to  be  appreciated,  had  to  be  heard  contin- 
uously, and  under  circumstances  of  more  than 
ordinary  interest.  His  first  efforts  were  mod- 
est, his  manner  calm  but  clear,  and  his  aim 
was  rather  to  awaken  interest  than  to  excite 
the  passions.  Usually  he  began  with  the 
church,  hoping  to  bring  them  to  a  higher  tone 


48  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

of  consecration.  If  successful  in  this,  he  turned 
his  thoughts  upon  the  careless  and  the  impen- 
itent, believing  that  a  very  intimate  relation 
subsisted  between  a  revival  in  the  church  and 
a  resurrection  of  the  dead  in  sin.  His  preach- 
ing had  a  strict  adaptation  to  these  varying 
circumstances.  It  rose  as  the  current  of  feel- 
ing rose.  It  kept  on,  growing  deeper  and 
more  impetuous  as  the  revival  influence  aug- 
mented. It  was  like  an  electrical  atmosphere, 
showing  on  the  distant  clouds  some  faint  cor- 
ruscations.  But  as  they  rolled  up  and  came 
nearer,  sharp  flashes  might  be  seen.  By  and 
by  the  whole  concave  was  trembling  with  aw- 
ful detonations.  Such  was  Nettleton's  preach- 
ing as  the  revival  atmosphere  deepened  in 
breadth  and  volume.  We  have  known  him 
preach  in  one  of  the  largest  churches  in  New 
Haven,  every  foot  of  the  floor  and  aisles  filled 
with  dense  masses,  all  wearing  such  a  look  as 
can  be  depicted  only  by  the  Spirit  of  God. 
Hundreds  under  conviction  turned  their  tear- 
ful eyes  in  the  direction  of  the  pulpit,  their 
sighs  almost  audible,  repressed  only  by  the 
proprieties  of  the  place.  How  still — how  in- 
tensely, awfully  still !  Truly,  this  is  the  house 
of  God ;   yes,  to   many  the  gate  of  heaven. 


DE.  ASAHEL  NETTLETON.  49 

The  preacher  is  himself  oppressed,  sustained 
only  by  the  thought  that  Grod  can  and  will  do 
his  own  work.  He  has  gone  on  and  up  with 
the  advancing  tide  of  feeling,  until  now  his 
whole  'soul  is  elevated  to  its  utmost  power  and 
energy.  Talk  of  eloquence !  Never  before 
had  I  a  just  impression  of  what  pulpit  oratory 
is.  Here  is  a  humble  preacher,  uttering  words 
so  simple  that  a  child  can  comprehend  their 
meaning,  with  a  manner  earnest  and  solemn, 
and  a  heart  deeply  touched  with  emotion ;  and 
as  he  goes  on,  by  illustrations  so  striking,  rea- 
soning so  convincing,  and  appeals  so  tender, 
the  audience  can  scarce  refrain  from  an  out- 
burst of  agony.  Tears  rained  silently  in  those 
pews,  and  convictions  went  deeper  and  deeper, 
while  many  an  eye  was  turned  anxiously  tow- 
ards the  cross,  the  only  hope  set  before  them. 
To  appreciate  Mr.  Nettleton,  one  should  have 
heard  him  as  the  writer  heard  him,  under  the 
culminating  power  of  a  great  revival.  Never 
shall  I  forget  the  sermon  on  "  Dives  and  Laz- 
arus," delivered  in  the  very  height  of  the  relig- 
ious excitement.  Rich  men  were  there.  It 
seemed  as  if  everybody  was  there,  so  great  was 
the  crowd.  The  preacher  was  in  his  best 
frame.     He  gave  full  scope  to  his  ardent  soul. 

Eloquent  Preachers.  O 


50  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

He  had  great  power  of  description.  It  was  not 
imagination  so  much  as  vivid  conception.  He 
could  set  religious  truth  in  strong  lights.  On 
this  occasion  he  carried  us  forward  to  the  aw- 
ful and*  glorious  future.  He  took  us  into*  heav- 
en, and  even  'into  hell.  He  gave  us  a  glimpse 
of  the  glorified  Lazarus,  and  startled  us  by  a 
vision  of  the  rich  sensualist  wrapped  in  sheet- 
ed flame.  Towards  4he  close  the  excitement 
became  almost  unbearable.  He  summoned 
the  lost  Dives  back  to  this  world.  He  bade 
the  audience  make  way  for  him,  pointing  along 
the  central  aisle.  The  preacher  gazed  fearful- 
ly in  the  same  direction.  The  audience  in- 
stinctively half  turned  their  heads.  Now  the 
flame-tormented  soul  ascends  the  pulpit.  Start- 
ing aside,  the  preacher  says,  "Listen  to  one 
risen  from  the  dead — risen  even  from  hell  f 
when  in  deep  despairing  tones  the  imagined 
Dives  begins  to  address  them.  He  warns  them 
as  only  a  returned  emissary  from  hell  could 
warn  men.  It  was  a  scene  of  intense  interest. 
Never  could  it  have  been  carried  through  but 
for  the  wave  of  feeling  which  had  been  gather- 
ing for  weeks,  and  was  now  at  its  flood.  This 
sanctioned  it,  saved  it,  made  it  a  success.  Many 
were  awakened  by  it  to  a  sense  of  their  sins. 


DR.  ASAHEL  NETTLETON.  51 

The  sermons  of  Dr.  Nettleton  were  usually 
constructed  in  a  clear,  methodical  manner. 
The  language  was  of  the  simplest  kind.  The 
point  soon  began  to  appear,  and  grew  sharper 
and  more  prominent  as  he  proceeded.  Tow- 
ards the  conclusion  he  would  make  some  sen- 
tences cut  as  with  a  two-edged  sword.  He 
used  much  repetition.  A  strong,  pungent  truth 
would  be  echoed  once,  and  twice,  and  even 
thrice,  each  reverberation  louder  and  more 
solemn,  as  if  he  hoped  by  repeated  blows  to 
drive  it  through  the  most  obdurate  conscience. 
I  never  knew  a  preacher  who  could  repeat  a 
sentence  so  often  without  diminishing  its  pow- 
er. He  aimed  at  direct  impression ;  and  no 
minister  perhaps  in  this  country  has  been  more 
successful  in  turning  many  to  righteousness, 
nor  will  any,  as  we  think,  shine  more  illustri- 
ously among  the  stars  of  the  celestial  firma- 
ment. 


52  ELOQUENT    PREACHERS. 


DR.  LYMAN  BEECHER. 

Dr.  Beecher's  power  as  a  pulpit  orator 
culminated  about  the  period  of  his  removal 
from  Litchfield,  Conn.,  to  the  Hanover-street 
church,  Boston.  He  was  then  not  much  be- 
yond fifty  years  of  age,  and  his  reputation  as 
a  divine  was  established  on  a  firm  basis.  The 
physical  man,  of  medium  height  and  breadth, 
was  in  its  perfection ;  characterized  by  strong 
muscles,  a  well-set  frame,  a  countenance  with 
the  lines  of  strength  predominating  over  those 
of  age,  and  more  remarkable  for  vigor  of  ex- 
pression than  for  the  beauty  of  its  lineaments. 
His  forehead  was  not  high  nor  broad,  but  ex- 
pressive of  intellect,  and  was  surmounted  by 
a  heavy  mass  of  iron  gray  hair.  The  contour 
of  his  face  was  decidedly  Boman.  His  eye 
was  perhaps  the  most  speaking  feature,  kin- 
dling with  geniality  in  social  life,  and  full  of, 
fire  when  the  great  themes  of  religion  were 
under  discussion.  His  mouth  was  the  very 
symbol  of  decision;  and  even  when  his  lips 
were  closed,  would  give  one  the  idea  of  indom- 
itable purpose.     As  age  advanced,  the  iron 


DE.  LYMAN  BEEOHEE.  53 

gray  hair  changed  to  snowy  whiteness,  and  the 
more  genial  expression  remained  long  after  the 
high  intellectual  force  had  abated. 

His  ministry  began  at  East  Hampton  on 
the  east  end  of  Long  Island,  where  the  ocean's 
thunder  and  the  scream  of  the  eagle  gave  wild- 
ness  and  sublimity  to  the  scene.  Here  the 
young  giant  cradled  his  genius  and  nursed  it 
into  strength.  He  was  at  home  amid  these 
wild  scenes,  and  never  manifested  more  natu- 
ral delight — amounting  sometimes  almost  to 
rapture — than  when  he  was  buffeting  the 
waves  in  some  light  craft,  or  drawing  from  the 
deep  its  finny  treasures. 

Yet  this  great  mind  was  at  work,  perhaps, 
at  the  very  moment  that  he  was  indulging  this 
joyous  pastime.  Who  can  say  but  in  those 
hours  of  relaxation  by  the  deep  sea  he  was 
elaborating  those  trains  of  thought  which  were 
afterwards  to  be  hurled  with  startling  empha- 
sis upon  the  astonished  audience. 

He  had  another  mode  of  recreation  which 
it  may  not  be  improper  here  to  mention; 
namely,  the  use  of  the  violin.  He  was  fond  of 
the  instrument,  and  employed  it  to  rest  the 
wearied  faculties.  Having  occasion  to  call 
upon  him,»the  writer  inquired  at  the  door  if 


54  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

lie  was  in.  The  answer  was,  "Yes;  and  by 
following  the  sound  of  the  violin  which  you 
hear,  he  may  be  found  on  the  second  floor." 
So,  led  by  the  strain  of  music,  the  door  was 
reached  and  opened.  There  sat  the  venerable 
divine  still  drawing  the  bow,  and  so  absorbed, 
that  for  an  instant  the  intruder  was  not  no- 
ticed. When  he  looked  up,  he  gave  one  of 
those  genial  smiles  so  expressive  of  his  benev- 
olent heart,  and  said,  "Do  not  be  surprised  at 
my  occupation;  this  is  my  pipes  and  tobacco." 
It  was  while  Dr.  Beecher  was  at  East 
Hampton  that  he  composed  his  sermon  on 
"the  Sovereignty  of  God."  It  was  delivered 
in  Newark  before  the  Synod  of  New  York  and 
New  Jersey,  and  so  great  was  the  impression, 
that  it  brought  the  author  at  once  into  the 
foreground  of  distinguished  preachers.  There 
was  depth  of  reasoning,  force  of  illustration, 
and  uncommon  Saxon  vigor  in  the  style.  It 
met  the  popular  objections,  and  swept  them 
away  as  with  the  force  of  a  whirlwind.  It 
revealed  the  immovable  foundations  on  which 
the  doctrine  rested;  and  none  who  heard  it, 
or  who,  after  it  was  in  print,  read  it,  could 
fail  to  see  that  it  bore  the  stamp  of  an  hercu- 
lean intellect. 


DR.  LYMAN  "BEECHEB.  55 

From  this  date  the  hitherto  obscure  pastor 
of  East  Hampton  drew  upon  him  the  eyes  of 
the  religious  public,  and  his  services  were  fre- 
quently required  on  conspicuous  occasions. 

From  East  Hampton  he  removed  to  Litch- 
field, Conn.  Into  this  new  field  of  labor  he 
brought  with  him  the  resources  of  thought  and 
culture  which  he  had  been  accumulating  in  his 
earlier  ministry  on  Long  Island.  It  was  a 
more  interesting  as  well  as  wider  sphere,  inas- 
much as  it  furnished  not  only  more  minds  to 
act  upon,  but  minds  of  a  high  order.  Here 
was  the  celebrated  law  school  to  which  the 
young  aspirants  for  legal  and  political  distinc- 
tion resorted,  and  where  the  ablest  teachers  of 
the  science  of  jurisprudence  dwelt.  These,  for 
the  most  part,  were  attendants  upon  his  minis- 
try. It  was  just  the  stimulus  which  such  a 
mind  as  his  needed. 

Every  «8abbath  brought  under  his  eye 
judges  and  lawyers  and  law  students — minds 
of  great  acumen  thoroughly  trained  to  discus- 
sion on  subjects  of  profound  interest,  and  able 
to  appreciate  the  highest  intellectual  efforts  in 
the  departments  of  law  and  of  divinity.  Dr. 
Beecher  was  the  man  for  them,  and  they  were 
the  audience  for  him. 


56  ELOQUENT   PKEACHEBS. 

Accordingly  all  his  energies  were  tasked 
to  bring  forth  divine  truth  in  its  varied  aspects, 
and  to  assert  its  claims  upon  the  intellect  and 
the  heart.  Here  were  elaborated  some  of  his 
discourses  which  have  taken  rank  among  the 
ablest  productions  of  American  divines.  "The 
Bible  a  Code  of  Laws"  was  one  of  them,  in 
which,  after  a  concise  array  of  principles  and 
statements,  supported  by  reasoning  brief  but 
convincing,  he  proceeds  to  draw  numerous  in- 
ferences, that  come  along  in  succession,  like 
platoons  of  artillery,  growing  heavier  in  their 
tread,  until  the  foundations  of  seductive  and 
fatal  error  seem  to  tremble  under  the  march 
of  this  "  army  with  banners."  When  this  dis- 
course was  delivered  in  Park-street  church, 
Boston,  it  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  most 
eloquent  that  had  ever  been  listened  to. 

This  celebrated  sermon,  with  others  of  the 
same  type,  was  the  product  of  lon£  continued 
thought.  It  had  been  delivered  to  his  people 
at  Litchfield  in  parts,  running  along  over  sev- 
eral Sabbaths,  until  it  was  completed.  These 
separate  links,  seemingly  of  massive  iron,  were 
then  forged  into  one  strong  chain;  and  so,  by 
a  power  of  condensation  which  its  author  pos- 
sessed more  than  almost  any  preacher  we  have 


DE.  LYMAN  BEECHEE.  57 

ever  known,  this  grand  product  of  a  great  in- 
tellect was  given  at  a  single  delivery. 

In  a  ministers'  meeting,  where  the  doctor 
made  a  report  of  one  of  his  discourses,  giving 
the  heads  and  many  of  the  illustrations,  so 
original  and  powerful  was  the  train  of  thought, 
that  a  younger  member  of  the  association, 
struck  with  its  great  force,  inquired  how  long 
it  took  him  to  make  that  sermon.  "A  life- 
time," was  his  laconic  reply.  To  this  power 
of  condensation  is  to  be  attributed  much  of  the 
influence  exerted  by  this  strong,  nervous  writ- 
er. There  are  no  platitudes,  no  long-drawn 
array  of  words  or  figures.  The  sentences  seem 
to  have  been  subjected  to  an  hydraulic  pres- 
sure, until  not  a  word  can  be  spared  nor  an 
argument  omitted  without  manifest  loss  to  the 
effect  of  the  discourse. 

His  Sermons  on  Intemperance,  coming  out 
as  they  did  at  the  very  commencement  of  the 
moral  crusade,  are  a  wonderful  series.  By 
their  power  of  logic,  by  their  force  of  illustra- 
tion, by  all  the  pictorial  horrors  of  the  vice 
assailed,  including  warnings  the  most  startling 
and  appeals  the  most  touching,  clothed  in  lan- 
guage as  remarkable  for  its  strength  as  for  its 
classic  beauty,  they  bring  out  the  genius  and 

3* 


58  ELOQUENT- PEEACHEES. 

power  of  the  man,  and  constitute  a  claim  to 
the  admiration  as  well  as  the  gratitude  of  the 
public.  A  heavier  blow  at  the  gigantic  vice 
of  the  age  has  not  been  given. 

As  an  eloquent  minister,  Dr.  Beecher,  to 
be  fully  appreciated,  must  be  regarded  in  tjie 
practical  and  experimental,  as  well  as  the  con- 
troversial field.  True,  he  was  in  polemic  dis- 
cussions almost  unrivalled.  He  could  con- 
struct an  argument  on  the  spur  of  the  mo- 
ment. His  mind  acted  with  electrical  rapidi- 
ty, and  only  needed  an  atmosphere  to  start  the 
current  and  send  off  the  fiery  explosions.  Ea- 
tionalism  never  met  a  more  formidable  antag- 
onist, and  bald  infidelity  could  not  stand  for  a 
moment  before  the  thunder-peals  of  his  elo- 
quence. Still  we  must  look  at  him  in  the  lec- 
ture-room, or  follow  him  into  revival  scenes, 
where  his  whole  soul  was  drawn  out  in  analyz- 
ing Christian  experience,  and  in  the  deep 
heart-rending  emotions  which  a  sight  of  con- 
victed sinners  produced.  We  must  listen  to 
his  unpremeditated  and  tender  appeals,  in 
order  to  know  more  thoroughly  the  power  of 
the  preacher.  Here  his  piety  flamed  up  by  its 
own  kindling  emotions.  The  great  jnind  here 
dropped  at  once  into  the  spirit  of  the  child; 


DR.  LYMAN  BEECHER.  59 

and  uniting  the  grandeur  of  a  strong  intellect 
with  the  tenderness  of  a  sympathetic  heart,  he 
gave  out  lessons  of  love  such  as  filled  the  whole 
place  with  a  heavenly  atmosphere.  No  man 
was  jnore  at  home  in  revival  scenes  than  he, 
and  few  on  such  occasions  have  been  more  hon- 
ored as  instruments  in  the  conversion  of  souls. 

His  introduction  into  Boston  was  under 
propitious  circumstances.  Evangelical  relig- 
ion had  received  a  new  impulse.  The  revival 
spirit  had  begun  to  manifest  itself  in  several  of 
the  churches ;  and  the  new  one,  to  which  he 
was  called,  was  already  aglow  with  the  heav- 
enly fire.  Looking  about  for  a  leader,  they 
saw  one  in  the  eloquent  pastor  at  Litchfield. 
He  came  at  their  call ;  and  at  once  the  city  of 
the  pilgrims  rang  with  his  cry.  His  church 
was  thronged  not  so  much  from  curiosity  as  to 
hear  one  who,  with  overpowering  eloquence, 
preached  God's  sovereignty  and  God's  mercy ; 
who  held  up  the  cross  as  the  only  palladium 
of  a  sinner's  safety ;  who  knew  nothing  among 
men  but  "Jesus  Christ  and  him  crucified." 

When,  by  an  inscrutable  providence,  the 
Hanover-street  church  was  burned  down,  a 
new  one  arose  quickly  from  its  ashes.  Crowds 
pressed  into  it;  and  such  was  the  power  of 


60  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

God  upon  his  preaching,  that  many  who  ' '  went 
to  mock  remained  to  pray."  Conversions 
were  numerous ;  and  the  church  at  length, 
overflowing  as  to  its  membership,  began  to  col- 
onize into  other  new  churches,  until  the  evan- 
gelical faith  took  root  in  every  part  of  the 
city. 

At  this  period  we.  suppose  Dr.  Beecher's 
power  as  to  eloquence  reached  its  highest 
point.  He  was  never  more  eloquent — never 
had  greater  weight  of  influence — never  struck 
heavier  blows  at  the  kingdom  of  darkness. 

A  conscientious  sense  of  duty  led  him  to 
the  West,  where  he  assumed  the  responsibili- 
ties of  both  a  pastor  and  a  theological  teacher. 
This  twofold  burden  was  too  heavy  even  for 
his  herculean  shoulders  to  bear.  His  iron 
frame  began  to  give  way.  It  became  neces- 
sary first  to  cast  off  some  of  the  burden,  and 
after  a  while  the  whole.  He  retired  from  the 
more  onerous  and  active  duties  of  the  ministry ; 
and  reappearing,  with  a  weight  of  threescore 
years  upon  him,  among  his  old  friends  at  the 
East,  he  was  received  with  open  arms  and 
warm,  grateful  hearts.  Gradually  he  suc- 
cumbed to  the  pressure  of  advancing  years, 
but  still  retaining  all  the  warmth  of  a  piety 


DR.  LYMAN  BEECHER.  61 

the  sincerity  and  earnestness  of  which  none 
that  knew  him  ever  questioned. 

Dr.  Beecher's  eloquence  was  unlike  that  of 
any  other  preacher  whom  we  have  known.  It 
was  not  marked  by  studied  action,  or  previous 
drill,  or  the  usual  rules  of  elocution.  There 
was  no  majesty  of  person,  no  liquid  rotundity 
of  voice,  no  gracefulness  of  manner.  He  dealt 
sparingly  in  figures  of  speech,  using  them  only 
when  they  gave  greater  force  to  the  sentiment. 
His  manner  in  the  pulpit  some  would  call  awk- 
ward, others  blunt,  and  others  perhaps  even 
harsh.  Yet  amid  all  this,  who  that  ever  lis- 
tened to  him  when  his  great  mind  was  roused, 
and  the  course  was  clear,  and  the  whole  moral 
.and  mental  man  was  strained  for  the  race,  can 
fail  to  concede  a  power  of  eloquence  which  car- 
ried all  before  it  ? 

His  great  power  lay  in  the  thought,  and 
such  thought  as  seldom  takes  verbal  life.  It 
was  such  thought  as  came  from  a  mind  of  deep 
original  conceptions.  It  was  less  like  gold- 
dust  than  gold  nuggets.  It  impressed  one  not 
-  .  -,only  with  the  richness  of  the  specimens,  but 
with  the  untold  richness  of  the  mine  from 
which  they  were  dug. 

But  was  there  nothing  impressive  in  his 


62  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

manner?  There  was.  Earnestness  was  one 
feature.  Never  was  a  preacher  more  earnest. 
There  was  animation.  Every  nerve  quivered 
under  it.  Though  not  musical,  the  voice  was 
strong,  accumulating  power  as  he  proceeded, 
and  driving  home  the  grand  logic  of  the  dis- 
course. There  was  at  times  emotion.  This 
was  especially  discernible  in  his  sermons  on 
practical  religion.  But  the  grand  secret  of  his 
eloquence  after  all  lay,  as  we  have  said,  in  the 
strong  original  thought,  set  in  a  frame  of  logic 
so  bold  and  clear  that  the  most  common  intel- 
lect could  understand  him.  Conviction  with 
him  seemed  to  be  the  great  thing.  To  use  a 
military  figure,  he  stormed  the  moral  affections 
by  approaches  through  the  intellect.  He  first; 
gained  the  assent  of  the  reason,  or  rather  forced 
it,  and  then  directed  his  blows  upon  the  con- 
science and  the  heart. 

His  power  in  the  pulpit  was  also  augmented 
by  his  peculiar  use  of  the  Saxon  tongue. 
Never  have  we  listened  to  a  man  who  could 
express  a  theological  idea  in  clearer  or  more 
forcible  terms,  such  as  one  of  the  commonest 
of  his  hearers  could  understand  and  recognize 
as  appropriate.  He  had  Carlisle's  strength, 
without  his -verbal  eccentricity. 


DR.  LYMAN  BEECHER.  63 

Nor  was  Dr,  Beecher  wanting  in  pictorial 
power.  Listening  to  him  on  one  occasion 
when  describing  the  penitent  woman  who 
kneeled  at  our  Lord's  feet,  and  washed  them 
with  her  tears,  the  whole  scene  in  concise  but 
graphic  language  was  placed  vividly  before 
the  imagination.  Every  part  of  the  descrip- 
tion had  life.  It  was  the  power  of  a  moral 
painter  using  words  as  the  artist  uses  colors, 
to  bring  out  and  give  force  to  the  preconceived 
picture. 

That  Dr.  Beecher 's  style  was  perfect  not 
his  warmest  admirer  would  assert;  that  he 
lacked  the  graces  usually  desired  and  expected 
in  a  pulpit  orator  every  one  who  knew  him 
must  admit;  that  his  manner  was  sometimes 
so  abrupt  as  to  grate  on  the  ears  of  his  more 
sensitive  hearers,  even  this  we  are  obliged  to 
concede.  But  after  all,  his  noble  range  of 
thought,  his  entire  consecration  to  his  work, 
his  intense  love  of  Christ,  and  his  exultant 
faith  in  the  certain  triumphs  of  truth  and 
righteousness,  his  simplicity  and  sincerity 
seen  in  every  act  and  word,  his  unselfish  and 
unworldly  spirit,  all  combined  to  render  him 
one  of  the  most  powerful  and  influential 
preachers  our  country  has  produced. 


64  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 


DR.  HENRY  B.  BASCOM. 

Many  years  ago,  passing  clown  the  North 
river,  I  fell  in  company  with  several  Metho- 
dist ministers.  They  were  on  their  way  to 
the  New  York  Conference.  Said  one  of  them 
to  me,  "Have  you  ever  heard  Dr.  Bascom?" 
I  had  not.  "Well,  then,"  he  added,  "you 
have  not  heard  the  most  eloquent  preacher  in 
the  United  States.'7  I  could  not  of  course 
deny  it,  and  my  politeness  forbade  me  to  ex- 
press the  doubt  which  I  entertained.  But  I 
determined  to  judge  for  myself,  should  the  op- 
portunity occur.  Soon  it  did.  The  announce- 
ment that  the  great  pulpit  orator  was  to  preach 
drew  an  immense  audience  to  the  Murray-street 
church.  Every  seat  and  standing-place  was 
occupied  long  ere  the  service  commenced. 
From  a  glance,  it  was  evident  that  our  most 
intelligent  citizens  were  there.  Ministers,  law- 
yers, editors — in  fact  all  professions  were  nu- 
merously represented.  No  man  could  wish 
for  a  finer  or  more  appreciating  audience. 
There  was  a  preliminary  rustle — usual  on  such 


DK.  HENRY   B.  BASCOM.  65 

occasions — when    the   preacher   entered   and 
took  the  central  chair  on  the  platform  pulpit. 

Dr.  Bascom's  appearance  and  manner  were 
not  ministerial.  Had  we  not  known  him  to  be 
a  preacher,  we  should  have  taken  him  for  a 
spruce  politician.  He  had  a  jaunty  look,  and 
his  shining  black  stock  and  well- trimmed 
whiskers  and  fashionable  costume  seemed  not 
in  keeping  with  the  usually  staid  and  very 
plain  exterior  of  the  clergy  of  his  own  denom- 
ination. This  peculiarity  had  given  umbrage 
to  the  leaders  of  Methodism,  and  had  caused 
no  small  personal  vexation  to  their  not  very 
acquiescent  brother.  The  Methodism  of  these 
days  looks  more  to  the  inner  and  less  to  the 
outer  man ;  and  a  minister's  costume,  unless  it 
were  in  the  extreme  of  the  fashion,  would 
hardly  be  noticed.  The  truth  is,  Dr.  Bas- 
com's fine  person  and  free,  easy  manner  made 
any  garb  look  well  on  him  ;  so  that  on  one 
occasion,  when  a  scrupulous  father  made  him 
a  present  of  a  round-cut  coat  on  the  condition 
that  lie  would  wear  it,  it  was  found,  on  don- 
ning it,  that  he  looked  more  genteel  than  be- 
fore. He  had  what  might  be  called  a  dashing 
air,  the  growth,  apparently,  of  that  bold  and 
self-reliant  feeling  which   rough  western   life 


66  ELOQUENT    PBEACHEES. 

almost  necessarily  produces!  For  long  years 
in  early  manhood  he  had  struggled  with  pov- 
erty ;  had  been  exposed  to  perils  in  the  wil- 
derness ;  had  forded  rivers  and  swamps ;  slept 
in  log  huts  ;  lived  on  poor  and  scanty  fare  ; 
studied  his  sermons  by  the  light  of  pine  knots ; 
rode  thousands  of  miles  to  preach  to  here  and 
there  a  scattered  remnant  of  humanit}^ — his 
audiences  amounting  to  a  hundred  at  most, 
and  reduced  sometimes  to  four  or  five,  and 
they  of  the  rudest  kind. 

Such  was  Bascom's  training,  such  the  school 
in  which  he  learned  to  think,  to  act,  to  suffer, 
to  trust.  But  now,  when  we  saw  him,  he  had 
graduated  to  a  higher  sphere.  He  had  come 
up  out  of  the  wilderness.  Still  that  wilderness 
had  cast  about  him  the  mantle  of  a  sublime 
freedom,  which,  though  he  had  exchanged  the 
camel's  hair  and  leathern  girdle  for  the  broad- 
cloth, was  discernible  in  every  movement  of 
mind  and  muscle.  His  people  did  not  for  a 
long  time  understand  him,  misinterpreted  his 
manners,  and  criticized  needlessly  his  exterior. 
But  the  sublime,  self-reliant  man  kept  on,  leav- 
ing to  time  and  truth  the  charge  of  his  reputa- 
tion. That  sacred  trust  they  kept,  and  when 
we  heard  him  in  Murray-street,  the  mists  of 


DE.  HENRY  B.  BASCOM.  67 

prejudice  had  been  exhaled,  and  his  reputa- 
tion shone  out  upon  a  cloudless  sky.  His  per- 
son was  prepossessing,  dignified ;  his  eye,  dark 
and  piercing,  glanced  nervously  over  the  vast 
assembly.  In  every  countenance  he  saw  high 
expectation,  and  though  well  prepared  to  meet 
it,  he  evidently  suffered  under  a  secret  tremor. 
Others  led  the  devotions.  Bascom,  it  was  said, 
seldom  prayed  in  public — never  when  the  oc- 
casion was  conspicuous  and  he  the  preacher. 
Why?  Some  said  "he  had  not  the  gift."  But 
another  reason  may  be  suggested.  Yery  prob- 
ably he  was  so  absorbed  in  his  subject,  and  so 
excited  by  the  presence  of  a  vast  crowd,  that 
he  felt  unfit  to  perform  a  service  requiring  a 
calm  and  reverential  frame  of  spirit.  He  seems 
not  to  have  entered  into  the  spirit  of  the  old 
divine  when  asked  by  a  young  preacher  to 
offer  prayer  :  "No,"  said  he;  "whet  your  own 
sword."  Bascom  was  accustomed  to  whet  his, 
we  hope,  before  he  came  to  the  sanctuary. 

What  shall  we  say  of  the  discourse  on  this 
occasion?  That  it  equalled  expectation?  High 
as  that  was,  he  soared  far  above  it.  He  was 
then  in  the  zenith  of  his  power.  His  voice 
was  flexible,  but  well  controlled.  It  had  com- 
pass and  clearness  both.     His  emphasis  was 


68  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEBS. 

admirably  laid  ;  his  utterance  rapid,  yet  every 
word  distinct.  His  gestures  were  forced  from 
him,  and  therefore  graceful  and  impressive. 
His  reserved  power — if  we  may  so  call  it, 
which  always  distinguishes  the  true  orator — was 
felt  to  be  immense.  High  as  his  nights  were, 
it  seemed  as  if  he  could  with  ease  have  gone 
far  higher.  Wide  as  his  range  was,  it  was  felt 
that  he  was  putting  a  check  on  his  impetuous 
and  discursive  intellect.  His  eye  grew  brighter 
and  brighter,  until  the  gleams  of  the  soul,  dart- 
ing through  it,  were  like  heat  lightning  play- 
ing and  flashing  incessantly  from  out  the  lurid 
cloud.  He  gained  his  audience  at  first,  and 
held  them  to  the  close  in  rapt  attention.  It 
was  like  the  mystic  symbol  of  Ezekiel — a  fiery 
car,  with  wheels  rolling  on  clouds — taking  us 
up  and  putting  us  clown  at  pleasure.  We  were 
entirely  in  his  hands.  Our  judgment  was  taken 
away  from  us.  There  was  no  power  to  criti- 
cize. Our  imagination  was  excited,  and  the 
whole  concave  of  thought  seemed  lit  up  as  with 
a  brilliant  aurora. 

He  had  a  great  theme — Africa  and  her  ill- 
fated  sons ;  colonization,  the  bright  star  of  hope 
to  a  depressed  race.  It  was  a  subject  on  which 
he  had  thought  long  and  felt  deeply,  until  his 


DR.  HENRY    B.  BASCOM.  69 

emotions  had  become  like  the  pent-up  fires  of 
a  volcano.  Both  his  intellect  and  his  sympa- 
thies were  intensely  excited.  His  genius  asked 
no  sublimer  theme.  He  pictured  Africa,  her 
past  and  her  present ;  her  grandeur  of  old,  and 
her  degradation  now.  He  dwelt  upon  her 
wrongs  ;  he  predicted  the  future  civilization 
that  was  to  overspread  her  shores  ;  he  recog- 
nized Providence  in  bringing  Africa  here,  bap- 
tizing her  in  suffering,  to  prepare  her  for  her 
mission  and  to  elevate  her  to  glory.  It  was  a 
discourse  of  overwhelming  power.  The  critics 
might  say  that  it  was  too  picturesque,  too  exu- 
berant in  metaphor ;  in  fact,  oratorically  too 
splendid.  But  this  was  the  preacher's  forte. 
He  lacked  not  logical  power,  but  his  preemi- 
nence rested  mainly  on  a  brilliant  fancy,  which 
hovered  over  his  logic  and  shed  her  rainbow 
beauties  upon  it.  Yet  every  thing  was  natural. 
There  was  no  straining  after  images.  They- 
came  robed  in  imperial  beauty.  There  was 
no  artificial  tone,  no  swell  and  cadence,  no 
studied  attitudes.  He  spftke  as  a  natural  ora- 
tor ;  in  a  style  conversational,  but  intensety 
earnest,  as  one  would  speak  whose  whole  aim 
was  to  carry  conviction  by  the  combined  power 
of  intellect  and  passion. 


70  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

This  discourse  was  over  two  hours  long, 
but  seemed  not  longer  than  an  ordinary  ser- 
mon. Listening  to  such  eloquence,  "we  take 
no  note  of  time-."  Hours  seem  minutes,  and 
we  dread  the  coming  of  the  last  sentence.  So 
deep  was  the  impression,  that,  as  the  vast  au- 
dience broke  up,  the  commonplace  exclama- 
tions of  eulogy  were  scarcely  heard.  It  seemed 
superfluous  to  ask  anybody  how  they  liked  it. 
The  deep  current  of  feeling  was  depicted  in 
every  man's  countenance. 

"His  style,"  says  one,  "combined  the 
beauty  of  Young,  the  strength  of  Wesley,  the 
eloquence  of  Chalmers,  and  the  sublimity  of 
Hall."  But  this  is  extravagant.  He  had  not 
the  classical  purity  of  Hall,  neither  had  he  the 
gorgeous  drapery  of  Chalmers.  And  had  he 
the  nervous  simplicity  of  Wesley  ?  Let  Wes- 
ley's followers  answer.  Still,  his  splendid 
fancy  threw  over  his  composition  such  brilliant 
lights  -as  dazzled  the  eye,  and  made  it  incapa- 
ble, in  a  'measure,  of  detecting  the  manifest 
faults  of  his  style.  *He  lacked  precision,  con- 
densation. He  was  too  lavish  of  words.  They 
were  piled  up  in  massive  grandeur,  so  as  some- 
times almost  to  conceal  the  thought.  Meta- 
phor followed  metaphor,  until  we  seemed  like 


DE.  HENBY  B.  BASCOM.  71 

travellers  among  the  tropics,  assailed  and  over- 
powered by  aromatic  sweets,  entranced  by 
floral  beauties,  and  amazed  at  the  deep  peren- 
nial verdure.  But  such  is  the  very  style  that 
attracts  and  enraptures  a  listening  audience. 
To  alter  it  for  one  more  correct,  would  have 
been  like  clipping  the  wings  of  an  eagle,  and 
then  bidding  him  soar  towards  the  sun.  Bas- 
com's  genius  would  have  died  under  such  rigid 
discipline.  He  must  be  himself.  Yain  would 
have  been  the  attempt  to  bind  around  such  a 
mind  the  restraints  of  artificial  rules.  He 
would  have  cast  them  off  with  the  same  ease 
and  proud  disdain  as  Samson  cast  off  the  green 
withes  or  the  flaxen  cords.  Whatever  viola- 
tion of  rhetorical  rules  may  be  chargeable  on 
this  great  pulpit  orator,  certain  it  is  that  no 
preacher  in  this  country  has  made  a  deeper 
impression  on  the  popular  mind.  "And," 
says  the  eloquent  Abbe  Maury,  "the  people 
are  the  *  best  and  only  proper  judges  of  our 
eloquence." 

Dr.  Bascom,  some  have  affirmed,  was  a 
memoriter  preacher.  But  this  his  biographer 
denies.  He  says  that  his  custom  was  to  draw 
out  his  plan  on  a  piece  of  paper,  and  then 
walking  to  and  fro,  for  hours  sometimes,  he 


72  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEBS. 

studied  the  arguments  and  shaped  out  the 
illustrations.  This  done,  he  threw  it  aside 
until  the  time  for  its  delivery.  "From  this 
habit,"  he  goes  on  to  say,  "young  orators 
might  learn  a  useful  lesson.  Nothing  is  more 
common  perhaps,  with  public  speakers,  than 
to  study  intensely  their  subjects  up  to  the  mo- 
ment of  appearing  in  public ;  the  natural  effect 
of  which  is  to  weaken,  if  not  prostrate,  the 
mental  energies  before  coming  to  the  point 
where  these  must  be  called  fully  into  action  or 
the  speaker  fail.  Bascom  understood  the  phi- 
losophy of  the  mind  too  well  to  expend  in  the 
drill  the  strength  essential  to  success  in  the 
battle." 

His  piety ;  what  shall  we  say  of  that  ? 
To  enter  largely  into  it  would  lead  us  away 
from  our  main  intent.  Suffice  it  to  say,  it  was 
deep,  without  being  ostentatious.  His  zeal 
was  intense,  without  being  fanatical ;  his  self- 
denial  for  Christ's  sake,  seldom,  in- modern 
times,  equalled.  As  to  his  creed,  it  may  be 
learned  from  the  closing  scene..  Among  the 
last  words  which  he  uttered  were  these  :  "All 
nry  trust  and  confidence  is  in  almighty  good- 
ness, as  revealed  in  the  cross  of  Christ." 


DE.  EDWAED  PAYSON.  73 


DR.  EDWARD  PAYSON. 

The  name  of  Payson  is  embalmed  in  the 
memory  of  evangelical  Christians.  He  was 
in  some  respects  the  model  minister.  His 
deeply  sympathetic  nature  led  him  to  rejoice 
with  them  that  rejoiced,  and  to  weep  with  them 
that  wept.  He  was  the  father  as  well  as  the 
pastor  of  his  flock.  So  thoroughly  did  he  iden- 
tify himself  with  them,  that  even  their  earthly 
trials  became  a  bond  of  mutual  sympathy. 

He  is  a  fit  representative  of  the  emotional 
class  of  preachers.  His  mental  was  much 
influenced  by  his  nervous  constitution.  The 
latter  was  a  fine-stringed  instrument,  keyed 
up  to  its  utmost  tension.  The  intellect,  like 
the  invisible  wind  acting  on  an  iEolian  harp, 
would  touch  now  a  plaintive  and  now  an  in- 
spiring chord.     As  he  felt,  so  he  spoke. 

He  was  not  a  man  of  remarkable  bodily  pres- 
ence. To  use  the  language  of  one  who  knew 
him  intimately,  "He  was  of  medium  height, 
good  proportions,  a  little  stooping  in  posture ; 
hair  black,  face  angular,  and  features  strongly 
marked  with  expressions  of  quiet  benevolence 

Eloquent  Preachers.  4 


74  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

and  decision;  eyes  dark  and  fall,  slightly  re- 
tired under  a  brow  somewhat  raised,  placid 
and  a  little  downcast  in  their  ordinary  expres- 
sion, but  keen  and  scrutinizing  when  raised 
and  fastened  on  an  object.  In  silence  his  coun- 
tenance was  marked  with  care  and  though  tful- 
ness,  which  were  awakened  in  conversation 
into  the  most  vivid  expressions  of  mental  activ- 
ity and  emotion." 

The  religious  was  the  modifying  and  all- 
controlling  element  in  Payson's  character. 
Every  other  feature  took  its  shape  and  color- 
ing from  this.  As  the  coin  in  passing  through 
the  mint,  whether  it  be  gold  or  copper,  receives 
the  same  external  stamp,  so  his  words  and 
thoughts,  his  ordinary  discourse  as  well  as  his 
highest  intellectual  efforts,  bore  the  imprint  of 
his  heavenly  spirit.  In  the  pulpit  or  out,  the 
minister  was  never  lost  in  the  man.  His  offi- 
cial robe  was  not  put  on  and  off,  but  worn 
ever.  Hence  no  man  in  conversation  with 
him  would  think  of  indulging  in  levity,  or  even 
ordinary  familiarity.  Some  may  object  to  this 
as  forming  a  barrier  to  social  freedom,  and 
tending  to  drive  away  those  who,  by  a  more 
free  and  familiar  style  of  manners,  might  have 
been  won  to  piety  and  virtue.     But  we  say, 


DE.  EDWARD  PAYSON.  75 

let  every  one  act  in  character.  If  a  minister's 
soul  is  taken  up  with  heavenly  things,  as  was 
Dr.  Payson's,  it  would  be  folly  to  sacrifice  the 
religious  to  the  social  spirit.  It  would  in  fact 
be  hypocrisy.  The  man  whose  temperament 
and  tendencies,  on  the  other  hand,  are  more 
social  than  religious,  would  only  play  a  part 
by  foisting  into  his  conversation,  from  a  sense 
of  duty,  sentiments  the  force  of  which  he  did 
not  really  feel.  Still  it  must  be  regretted  that 
in  Dr.  Payson's  manner  the  sombre  frequently 
prevailed  over  the  genial.  He  often  lacked  that 
sacred  hilarity,  if  we  may  so  term  it,  which 
graced  the  character  of  Legh  Richmond  and 
John  Angel  James,  and  which,  while  it  would 
not  have  lessened  his  influence  as  a  minister, 
would  have  made  him  more  generally  attrac- 
tive as  a  man. 

Much  of  the  apparent  gloom  which  tinged 
his  countenance  and  manner  was  the  result  of 
a  disordered  state  of  the  physical  system. 
"The  harp  of  a  thousand  strings"  was  only 
occasionally  in  tune.  When  it  was,  it  spoke 
heavenly  music.  Did  he  mistake  this  for  the 
ecstacy  of  devotion  ?  It  may  have  had  some 
influence  on  his  religious  emotions.  His  heav- 
en of  joy  may  have  had  something  to  do  with 


76  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

recuperated  nerves  under  a  clear  atmosphere, 
and  his  valley  and  shadow  of  death  may  in 
part  be  attributable  to  floating  icebergs  and 
easterly  fogs  acting  on  the  most  sensitive  of 
beings.  On  one  page  of  his  diary  are  written 
mourning,  lamentation,  and  woe ;  and  on  the 
next  he  breaks  out  in  songs  of  rapture,  in  the 
full  belief  that  God  is  both  his  refuge  and  his 
portion.  Jn  this  respect,  one  is  reminded  of 
David's  experience,  as  given  in  the  Psalms. 
The  same  alternations  of  hope  and  despondency 
appear  in  many  of  the  sacred  lyrics.  The  most 
plaintive  beginning  ends  often  in  the  most  tri- 
umphant shouts  of  praise.  Payson's  heart 
seems  to  have  been  set  to  the  same  key-note, 
and  to  have  reverberated  the  same  alternately 
mournful  and  exultant  strains.  The  tempera- 
ments of  the  two  were  not  perhaps  very  dis- 
similar. But  though  Payson's  religious  expe- 
rience was  somewhat  modified  by  physical 
causes,  we  would  by  no  means  deny  that  spir- 
itual influences  were  at  work  in  these  deep  and 
diversified  agitations  of  his  soul.  The  emo- 
tional part  of  religion  is  a  subtle  and  mysteri- 
ous subject,  shaping  itself  somewhat  according 
to  the  peculiar  temperament  of  the  individual. 
Men  of  strong  emotions  and  deep  passions  are 


DK.  EDWARD  PAYSON.  77 

exercised  very  differently  from  those  who  are 
naturally  cold  and  phlegmatic.  Payson  was 
of  the  former  class.  His  soul  was  a  sea  of 
emotion,  stirred  or  tranquillized  by  the  breath 
of  the  Spirit,  dark  and  tempestuous  at  times, 
and  anon  reflecting  from  its  calm  surface  the 
image  of  heaven. 

This  emotional  nature  was  drawn  out  in  the 
closet  under  great  wrestlings.  It  appeared  in 
the  social  meeting,  where  tears  were  mingled 
with  entreaties.  It  went  with  him  into  the 
pulpit.  He  looked  over  his  audience  as  our 
Lord  looked  down  upon  Jerusalem,  and  his 
soul  was  stirred  to  its  very  depths  in  view  of 
the  impenitent  and  their  hastening  doom.  He 
seized  hold  of  the  sinner  as  the  deputed  angel 
did  of  Lot,  and  would  fain  have  dragged  him 
from  the  fiery  ruin.  Hence  in  his  sermons 
there  were  overwhelming  appeals  and  deep- 
toned  warnings.  So  great  at  times  .were  his 
emotions,  that  it  seemed  to  one  listening  as  if 
he  had  gathered  his  impressions  of  eternal  ret- 
ribution from  actual  vision. 

The  impression  which  Payson's  preaching 
made  upon  his  hearers  was  that  of  one  who 
had  no  thought  of  any  thing  but  the  salvation 
of  souls.    Nobody  could  say  that  he  was  mere- 


78  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEKS. 

ly  discharging  an  official  duty,  much  less  would 
any  be  disposed  to  attribute  to  him  a  desire 
for  popularity.  The  very  aspect  of  the  man 
suggested  the  idea  of  sincerity.  Every  word 
tended  to  deepen  that  impression.  Imme- 
diately, even  at  the  first  utterances,  there  was 
established  a  sympathy  between  the  preacher 
and  his  auditors.  It  was  not  his  commanding 
appearance,  nor  any  studied  elocution,  nor  a 
remarkably  fine  voice :  it  was  rather  the  spirit 
of  the  man — an  undercurrent  of  deep,  heart- 
felt emotion  which  he  was  struggling  to  rej3ress, 
but  which  would  overflow  in  tremulous  tones, 
in  pathetic  exclamations,  in  earnest  appeals. 
Hence  language  which  might  have  been  es- 
teemed harsh  and  even  dreadful,  if  uttered  by 
another,  was  tolerated  in  him,  because  it  was 
spoken  with  such  evident  love  and  tenderness. 
"His  severest  expressions,"  says  one,  "were 
uttered  with  the  moving  tenderness  of  a  heart 
that  yearned  over  the  guilt  and  impending 
misery  of  his  fellow-men.  The  wounds  he  in- 
flicted were  the  wounds  of  a  friend.  Those  on 
whom  his  strokes  fell  with  deadliest  effect  could 
not  but  feel  that  benevolence  aimed  the  blow." 
In  reading  Payson's  printed  sermons,  one 
would  not  discover  the  secret  of  his  power. 


DE.  EDWARD  PAYSON.  79 

They  are  evangelical,  clear,  pungent,  .and  well 
written ;  but  there  is  not  condensation  of 
thought;  there  are  no  very  sharp,  pointed 
sentences,  nothing  that  gives  the  impression  of 
extraordinary  talent.  It  must  have  been  the 
spirit  of  the  man  which  animated  and  gave 
electrical  power  to  these  discourses.  "The 
thunder-storm  could  not  be  printed."  The 
deep,  holy  fervor  evaporated  when  the  attempt 
was  made  to  put  it  in  type.  Such  is  the  tes- 
timony of  those  who  sat  under  his  teachings. 
"  You  must  not  judge  of  him,"  say  they,  "  by 
his  printed  sermons.  You  should  have  felt  the 
gush  of  high  spiritual  emotion  with  which  they 
were  delivered,  and  which  touched  and  inter- 
ested every  heart." 

All  allow  that  no  minister  of  modern  times 
had  greater  unction  and  appropriateness  in 
prayer.  Public,  extemporaneous  prayer  it  is 
difficult  to  offer  so  as  to  enlist  the  sympathies 
of  an  accompanying  audience.  Few  excel  in 
it.  But  Payson  did.  It  was  because  he  lived  in 
the  atmosphere  of  devotion.  His  soul  was  half 
on  wing  always.  It  was  no  forced  effort  for 
him  to  rise.  He  walked  with  God.  God  was 
with  him  as  he  entered  the  pulpit.  How  easy 
and  how  natural  for  such  a  man,  gifted  too  with 


80  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

great  command  of  language,  to  throw  his  whole 
soul  into  the  devotional  exercises.  People 
were  amazed  and  awe-struck  at" the  power  and 
pathos  of  his  prayers.  He  seemed  as  if  talk- 
iug  with  God  face  to  face ;  yet  so  reverently, 
with  such  importunity,  with  such  self-abase- 
ment, such  naturalness,  such  childlike  confi- 
dence, that  the  listener  could  not  help  saying 
to  himself,  "  Surely  G-od  is  in  this  place."  Was 
not  his  success  as  a  preacher  intimately  con- 
nected with  this  power  of  prayer  ? 

There  was  one  characteristic  of  this  good 
man  which  tended  to  interest  the  minds  of  his 
people  and  to  awaken  the  attention  of  the  care- 
less. It  was  his  ingenuity  in  devising  ways  of 
usefulness,  and  in  carrying  them  out.  His 
whole  aim  was  to  keep  things  moving  in  the 
right  direction.  The  least  flagging  of  zeal  on 
the  part  of  his  church  was  painful  to  him.  He 
was  cast  down  also  if  souls  were  not  converted. 
Every  expedient  which  his  generous  heart 
could  devise,  not  inconsistent  with  Scripture, 
was  brought  to  bear,  for  the  quickening  of  his 
people  in  duty,  and  for  arousing  the  attention 
of  the  slumber-bound  sinner.  Some  would 
call  him  indiscreet.  Perhaps  he  was.  To  pre- 
dict a  revival  in  the  midst  of  coldness  seemed 


DB.  EDWARD  PAYSON.  81 

so.  The  moral  risk  was  great.  Yet  the  revi- 
val came.  Possibly  in  his  own  soul  there  may 
have  been  something  to  justify  the  announce- 
ment. But  who,  in  looking  back  on  the  ca- 
reer of  this  glorious  man,  would  be  disposed  to 
criticize  his  doings  ?  Such  a  life  and  such 
labors  ended  as  we  might  have  expected.  Few 
death  scenes  have  been  so  bright — have  had 
in  and  around  them  so  much  of  heaven.  He 
died  exclaiming  with  his  last  breath,  "  Peace, 
peace!  victory,  victory!" 


4* 


82  ELOQUENT    PKEACHEItS. 


DR.  EDWARD  DORR  GRIFFIN. 

Lsr  regard  to  the  distinguished  preachers  of 
a  past  generation  who  are  often  referred  to  in 
conversation  or  quoted  in  discourse,  there  is 
naturally  excited  among  later  men  and  minis- 
ters a  desire  to  know  something  of  their  per- 
sonal appearance,  their  peculiarities,  and  "the 
hiding  of  their  power."  Dr.  Griffin  is  one  of 
this  class.  Imagine  then  a  man  six  feet  three 
inches  in  height,  well-proportioned,  without 
being  corpulent;  with  a  head  covered  thickly 
with  hair  white  as  snow  ;  a  forehead  low,  yet 
firmly  set ;  a  large  rubicund  face  ;  nose  dis- 
proportionately small ;  eyes  dark,  small,  and 
piercing  ;  mouth  indicative  of  refinement ;  and 
a  countenance,  taken  altogether,  wearing  such 
an  expression  as  great  talent  and  high  culture 
usually  develope.  His  step  was  slow  and 
measured.  Every  motion  was  dignified  and  in 
keeping  with  his  lofty  stature.  Standing  in 
the  ecclesiastical  assembly,  like  Saul  among 
his  brethren,  he  was  head  and  shoulders  above 
them  all.     As  he  slowly  paced  up  the  aisle, 


DR.  EDWARD  DORR  GRIFFIN.  83 

every  eye  was  fixed  upon  him ;  and  the  feel- 
ing was,  if  his  preaching  corresponds  with  his 
height,  what  a  Boanerges  he  must  be !  No 
pulpit  was  adapted  to  him.  Bibles,  cushions, 
and  sometimes  even  benches,  had  to  be  piled 
up  in  front  for  the  convenience  of  the  gigantic 
preacher.  . 

He  was  a  very  genial  man.  His  warm, 
affectionate  heart  entered  sympathizing^  into 
the  joys  or  griefs  of  others ;  and  never  was  he 
more  in  his  element  than  when,  surrounded  by 
his  ministerial  brethren,  and  discoursing  with 
them  on  the  interests  of  Zion,  he  became  the 
radiant  centre  of  the  social  circle.  His  collo- 
quial powers  were  almost  unrivalled,  yet^he 
had  little  of  that  egotism  and  lecturing  style 
which  characterize  certain  distinguished  di- 
vines, and  which,  while  it  may  display  their 
talents,  is  sometimes  tedious  and  repulsivej 

Dr.  Griffin's  mind  was  graded  to  a  high 
scale,  and  partook  both  of  the  reasoning  and 
the  imaginative  qualities.  Without  being  a 
poet,  he  was  at  times  poetical ;  and  without 
being  a  professed  dialectician,  no  man  under- 
stood better  the  province  and  practice  of  logic. 
His  earlier  sermons  were  marked  by  the  pre- 
ponderance  of  the   poetical   quality.      They 


84  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEKS. 

might  be  called  flowery.  The  style  was  am- 
bitious, and  the  rhetoric  was  more  conspicuous 
than  the  reasoning.  But  as  age  and  experi- 
ence gave  solemnity  to  his  thoughts,  and  the 
revival  atmosphere  gave  intensity  to  his  emo- 
tions, his  style  gradually  changed  into  one  of 
greater  simplicity  and  point,  until  he  became 
one  of  the  most  forcible  and  pungent  preachers 
in  the  land.  In  later  life  his  diction  was  se- 
verely simple,  and  his  sentences  full  of  nervous 
energy. 

He  was  one  who  required  an  occasion  to 
call  forth  his  great  powers,  and  ample  time  for 
preparation.  He  was  not  a  man  to  be  sum- 
moned suddenly — not  "an  off-hand  man,'7  so 
to  speak.  He  might  indeed  succeed,  but  was 
more  likely,  in  such  an  emergency,  to  fail. 
He  was  not  accustomed  always  to  task  his 
powers.  His  ordinary  discourses  were  said  to 
be  sometimes  commonplace,  and  by  no  means 
up  to  the  expectations.  But  give  him  time 
and  give  him  an  occasion,  and  all  the  slum- 
bering genius  would  rise  and  overwhelm  with 
astonishment  the  listening  audience.  No  man 
who  heard  his  "plea  for  Africa,"  delivered  in 
the  Wall-street  church,  can  ever  forget  the 
sublime  thoughts  and  deep  §  emotion  of  that 


DE.  EDWAED  DOER  GEIFFIN.  85 

memorable  occasion.  Nor  less  powerful  was 
the  impression  when  he  preached  his  cele- 
brated sermon  on  the  missionary  enterprise. 
In  these  discourses  are  blended  the  glow  of 
fancy,  a  deep  current  of  reasoning,  and  the 
most  tender,  touching  appeals.  They  are 
classics  in  our  pulpit  lore. 

As  might  be  supposed,  Dr.  Griffin's  man- 
ner in  the  desk  was  of  that  chastened,  digni- 
fied style  which  propitiates  the  hearer,  and 
prepares  him  to  listen  attentively  and  seriously 
to  what  is  said.  There  was  nothing  done  for 
effect ;  no  assumed  devotion,  no  measuring 
with  his  eye  the  number  or  intellectual  grade 
of  his  audience.  He  took  the  pulpit  simply  to 
preach  Christ,  and  him  crucified.  Gravity  and 
seriousness  marked  every  word  and  gesture. 
His  voice  was  not  deep  nor  heavy,  as,  from 
his  great  stature,  one  might  have  expected.  It 
was  smooth,  clear,  and  far-reaching.  Every 
word,  uttered  with  distinctness,  fell  gratefully 
and  intelligibly  on  the  ear.  No  matter  how 
large  the  edifice,  the  farthest  pew  had  equal 
advantages  with  the  nearest.  It  seemed,  to 
one  listening,  as  if  that  voice  had  never  been 
tested  as  to  its  volume  and  far-reaching  power. 
It  was  under  the  most  complete  control.     The 


86  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

lowest  note  was  audible,  and  it  swelled  with 
graceful  augmentation,  until,  in  its  highest 
pitch,  it  called  forth  startling,  echoes  from 
every  wall  of  the  building. 

He  was  an  emotional  preacher.  Though 
using  notes,  or  rather,  a  full-written  manu- 
script, "his  heart" — to  quote  one  of  his  own 
strong  expressions — "palpitated  on  the  paper." 
Nobody  seemed  to  be  aware  that  he  was  read- 
ing. Though  the  manuscript  was  before  him, 
yet  his  whole  soul  was  absorbed  in  the  great 
thoughts  he  was  uttering,  and  his  eye  intent 
on  fixing  the  full  and  true  impress  on  the 
hearts  of  his  hearers.  There  were  certain 
hymns  which  he  was  accustomed  to  give  out, 
*the  reading  of  which,  in  his  peculiar  style  and 
intonation,  went  directly  to  the  heart.  His 
elocution,  so  far  as  we  could  judge,  was  per- 
fect. Every  word  and  sentiment  had  its  full 
and  natural  force.  It  was  a  treat  to  any  man 
of  taste  and  devotional  feeling  to  listen  to  him 
as  he  read  the  hymn  beginning,  "Ere  the  blue 
heavens  were  stretched  abroad."  When  he 
struck  upon  the  fourth  verse,  his  voice,  trem- 
ulous with  emotion,  fell  into  a  sweet  minor, 
and  carried  every  heart  with  it  as  he  con- 
tinued, 


DR.  EDWARD  DORR  GRIFFIN.  87 

"  But  lo,  He  leaves  those  heavenly  forms  ; 
The  Word  descends  and  dwells  with  clay, 
That  He  may  converse  hold  with  worms, 
Dressed  in  such  feeble  flesh  as  they." 

Whatever  lie  undertook,  he  threw  his  whole 
soul  into  the  work.  As  a  professor  at  Ando- 
ver,  he  was  the  enthusiastic  and  successful 
teacher  of  sacred  elocution.  His  removal  to 
Boston  was  under  circumstances  of  deep  inter- 
est. The  icy  barriers  of  rationalism  were  to 
be  assailed.  Some  giant  arm  was  needed  to 
do  the  work.  The  demand  was  for  powerful 
mind  and  muscle.  An  orthodox  fortress,  rear- 
ed in  the  very  centre  of  lapsed  Puritanism, 
was  to  be  manned  and  officered ;  and  Dr.  Grif- 
fin was  solicited  to  lead  "the  forlorn  hope." 
He  accepted.  His  fame  as  a  pulpit  orator 
drew  many  to  hear  the  gospel ;  and  Park- 
street  church  became  celebrated  under  the 
sobriquet  of  "Brimstone -corner."  At  first 
Unitarians,  drawn  by  his  graceful  and  power- 
ful delivery,  endured  his  scathing  rebukes  and 
pungent  appeals,  tolerating  the  doctrines  for 
the  sake  of  the  eloquent  manner  in  which  they 
were  presented.  But  curiosity  once  satisfied, 
they  fell  back  on  their  preconceived  notions, 
and  voted  orthodoxy  a  greater  absurdity  than 


88  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

ever.  The  "Park-street  lectures"  are  a  pow- 
erful defence  of  the  evangelical  doctrine.  If 
they  did  not  convince  Unitarians,  they  at  least 
confirmed  the  orthodox  and  strengthened  some 
who  had  been  wavering. 

But  he  was  not  at  home,  after  all,  in  the 
Puritan  city.  He  found  that  so  intense  and 
long-continued  a  hatred  of  the  doctrines  of 
grace,  on  tjie  part  of  the  rich  and  influential, 
had  created  a  popular  aversion  to  these  doc- 
trines which  all  his  powerful  efforts  could  not 
overcome.  Still,  to  this  day  his  faithfulness  is 
spoken  of  with  warm  approval,  and  his  elo- 
quence has  left  a  sweet  savor  that  hangs  around 
the  Park-street  corner,  like  the  scent  of  flow- 
ers around  the  vase  in  which  they  were  dis- 
played. 

We  cannot  close  our  sketch  without  ad- 
verting to  a  peculiar  charm  of  his  preaching, 
as  characterized  by  the  revival  spirit.  He  was 
greatly  blessed  in  his  pastorate  at  Newark 
and  elsewhere  with  powerful  effusions  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  No  minister  entered  more  warm- 
ly into  these  harvest  seasons.  He  knew  how 
to  bring  the  great  truths  of  the  gospel  with 
overwhelming  yet  tender  force  on  the  unawak- 
ened  and  awakened  conscience.     He  loved  to 


DE.  EDWARD  DORR  GRIFFIN.  89 

leacl  the  burdened  sinner  to  the  foot  of  the 
cross,  and  there  weep  with  him  and  pray  with 
him  until  the  tears  of  penitence  were  succeeded 
by  the  smiles  of  hope  and  joy.  At  length  this 
good  man  and  great  preacher  succumbed  to 
the  power,  of  disease,  and  went  to  heaven  as 
calmly  as  the  sun  sets  in  a  clear  autumnal 
evening. 


90  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 


REV.  ROBERT  HALL. 

By  the  death  of  this  great  preacher  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1831,  one  of  the  brightest  lights  of  the 
British  pulpit  was  extinguished.  His  elo- 
quence, partaking  the  qualities  of  the  two 
great»masters  and  exemplars  of  the  Grecian 
and  Roman  school,  had  no  superior  then,  and 
is  not  likely  to  have  any  hereafter.  In  his 
peculiarities  as  a  pulpit  orator  he  was  alone, 
and  stood  out  in  strong  relief.  Others  may 
have  made  a  greater  impression  on  promiscu- 
ous audiences,  but  none  have  gone  down  deep- 
er in  the  reflective  and  cultivated  British  mind. 
Gifted  with  an  intellect  of  innate  strength  and 
precocious  development — reading  and  relish- 
ing "Edwards  on  the  Will"  at  eleven  years  of 
age — with  an  imagination  soaring  to  the  utmost 
heights  and  diving  to  the  utmost  depths,  this 
incomparable  man  chose  to  exert  his  powers 
in  the  noblest  of  callings  and  to  disport  his 
imagination  on  the  sublimest  of  themes.  In  his 
early  training  he  was  favored  with  ample  lit- 
erary advantages,  first  at  the  British  Academy, 
and  afterwards  at  King's  college,  Aberdeen. 


REV.  ROBERT  HALL.  91 

While  at  the  former,  though  a  mere  stripling, 
he  was  urged  prematurely  into  the  pulpit,  in 
order  to  try  his  gifts.  The  trial  came  near 
depriving  the  world  of  his  brilliant  services. 
Proceeding  in  his  discourse  for  a  few  moments, 
he  suddenly  covered  his  face  with  his  hands, 
and  exclaimed,  "All  my  ideas  are  fled."  Still 
more  mortified  was  he  at  a  second  failure; 
when,  hastening  from  the  pulpit  to  his  closet, 
he  said,  "If  this  don't  humble  me,  the  devil 
must  have  me."  Doubtless  it  did  humble 
him;  and  after  a  more  thorough  mental  disci- 
pline at  Aberdeen,  he  entered  the  pulpit  under 
better  auspices — "a  workman  that  needed  not 
to  be  ashamed."  At  King's  college  he  moved 
through  the  course  of  study  with  all  the  ease 
and  enthusiasm  of  a  practised  competitor. 
There  it  was  he  became  intimate  with  Sir 
James  Mcintosh,  and  the  two — -par  nobile  fra- 
trum — in  their  walks  and  talks  discussed  all 
the  profoundest  philosophers  from  Locke  to 
Browne,  each  acquiring  by  this  intellectual 
gladiatorship  a  power  that  subserved  him  in 
after-life — the  one  as  a  lawyer  and  statesman, 
the  other  as  the  peerless  pulpit  orator  and  de- 
fender of  the  orthodox  faith. 

Mr.  Hall's  appearance  was  striking.     He 


92  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

possessed  an  athletic  and-  well-proportioned 
figure,  e}Tes  of  uncommon  lustre,  expressive  of 
sharp  wit  and  lofty  intellect,  unassuming  mod- 
esty, winning  frankness  of  manner,  and  an  en- 
thusiasm that  readily  kindled  and  communi- 
cated its  fire  to  others.  As  he  grew  older,  the 
forehead — a  calm,  majestic  pile — was  denuded 
towards  the  crown,  giving  additional  force  and 
dignity  to  the  whole  countenance.  He  had  an 
unconquerable  aversion  to  having  his  likeness 
taken ;  but  it  was  secured  clandestinely  while 
preaching.  His  friends  hung  it  in  his  study 
over  night,  and  watched  the  effect.  In  the 
morniug  he  discovered  it.  Scrutinizing  the 
picture  for  a  while,  he  placed  his  hand  midway 
over  the  face,  and -said  to  himself — such  is  the 
story — "The  upper  part,  forehead  and  eyes,  an- 
gelic ;  the  lower,  mouth  and  chin,  Satanic."  Dr. 
Gregory  says  it  was  the  most  speaking  counte- 
nance he  ever  contemplated,  animated  by  eyes 
radiating  with  the  brilliancy  imparted  to  them 
by  benevolence,  wit,  and  intellectual  energy. 

His  manner  in  the  pulpit  was  affected  some- 
what by  the  life-long  malady  which  he  endured. 
Extreme  pain  in  the  back,  diverging  from  the 
spine  over  the  nervous  texture  of  the  whole 
body,  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  use  narcot- 


REV.  ROBERT  HALL.  93 

ics,  and  to  study  for  the  most  part  in  a  recum- 
bent posture.  l£et  this  very  malady  may  have 
roused  his  intellectual  energies  to  the  highest 
pitch,  and  given  impulse  to  a  mind  which,  under 
ordinary  circumstances,  might  not  have  reached 
such  a  height  of  unequalled  grandeur.  Many 
times  he  rose  from  the  couch  of  pain  to  perform 
the  required  duties  of  the  pulpit,  and  his  friends 
could  discern  the  suppressed  agony  as  he  strug- 
gled on  in  the  service.  Hence  at  the  begin- 
ning he  seemed  to  lack  power.  His  voice  was 
feeble,  requiring  the  utmost  stillness  in  order 
to  catch  the  opening  sentences.  These  were 
generally  simple,  and  interrupted  by  a  spas- 
modic cough,  which  to  strangers  augured  dis- 
appointment; but  like  the  mettlesome  steed 
that  prances  a  while  and  then  rushes  forward 
with  a  bound,  so  the  orator  began  soon  to  show 
signs  of  a  strong  onward  movement.  His  voice 
gathered  strength,  lost  its  huskiness,  rolled  out 
in  augmented  volume,  while  the  "thoughts  that 
breathe  and  words  that  burn"  came  glowing 
brighter  and  brighter,  until  every  auditor  was 
chained  and  led  captive  by  an  almost  super- 
human eloquence. 

"He  could  at  pleasure,"  says  his  friend 
and   biographer,    "adopt  the  unadorned,   the 


94  ELOQUENT    PREACHERS. 

ornamental,  or  the  energetic,  and  indeed  com- 
bine them  in  every  diversity  of  modulation. 
In  his  higher  flights,  what  he  said  of  Burke 
might,  with  the  slightest  deduction,  be  applied 
to  himself,  that  'his  imperial  fancy  laid  all 
nature  under  tribute,  and  collected  riches  from 
every  scene  of  the  creation  and  every  walk  of 
art ;'  and  at  the  same  time  that  could  be  affirm- 
ed of  Mr.  Hall  which  could  not  be  affirmed  of 
Burke,  that  he  never  fatigued  and  oppressed 
by  gaudy  and  superfluous  imagery.  As  he 
advanced  to  his  practical  applications,  all  his 
mental  powers  were  shown  in  the  most  palpa- 
ble but  finely  balanced  exercise.  His  mind 
would,  if  I  may  so  speak,  collect  itself  and 
come  forth  with  a  luminous  activity,  proving 
as  he  advanced  how  vast,  and  in  some  impor- 
tant senses,  how  next  to  irresistible  those  pow- 
ers were.  In  such  seasons  his  preaching  com- 
municated universal  animation.  His  congre- 
gation would  seem  to  partake  of  his  spirit,  to 
think  and  feel  as  he  did,  to  be  fully  influenced 
by  the  presence  of  the  objects  which  he  set  be- 
fore them,  fully  actuated  by  the  motives  which 
he  had  enforced  with  such  energy  and  pathos. 
"From  the  commencement  of  his  discourse 
an  almost  breathless  silence  prevailed,  deeply 


REV.  ROBERT  HALL.  95 

impressive  and  solemnizing  from  its  singular 
intenseness.  Not  a  sound  was  heard  but  that 
of  the  preacher's  voice,  scarcely  an  eye  but 
was  fixed  upon  him,  not  a  countenance  that  he 
did  not  watch  and  read  and  interpret,  as  he 
surveyed  them  again  and  again  with  his  rapid, 
ever-excursive  glance.  As  he  advanced  and 
increased  in  animation,  five  or  six  of  the  audi- 
tors would  be  seen  to  rise  and  lean  forward 
over  the  front  of  their  pews,  still  keeping  their 
eyes  upon  him.  Some  new  or  striking  senti- 
ment or  expression  would  cause  others  to  rise 
in  like  manner ;  shortly  afterwards,  still  more ; 
and  so  on,  until,  before  the  close  of  the  ser- 
mon, it  often  happened  that  a  considerable 
portion  of  the  congregation  were  seen  stand- 
ing, every  eye  directed  to  the  preacher,  yet 
now  and  then  for  a  moment  glancing  from  one 
to  another,  thus  transmitting  and  reciprocating 
thought  and  feeling.  Mr.  Hall  himself,  con- 
scious of  the  whole,  received  new  animation, 
reflecting  it  back  upon  those  who  were  already 
alive  to  the  inspiration,  until  all  that  were  sus- 
ceptible of  thought  and  emotion  seemed  wound 
up  to  the  utmost  limit  of  elevation  on  earth, 
when  he  would  close  and  they  reluctantly  and 
slowly  resume  their  seats." 


96  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

Preaching  on  the  text,  "  Dead  in  trespasses 
and  sins,"  so  powerful  were  the  concluding 
appeals  of  the  preacher,  that  Dr.  Ryland,  in 
whose  church  he  was  officiating,  rushed  up  the 
pulpit  stairs,  and  with  tears  trickling  down  his 
cheeks,  cried  out,  "Let  all  that  are  alive  in 
Jerusalem  pray  for  the  dead,  that  they  may 
live.7'  His  manner  of  preparing  his  sermons 
was  peculiar.  He  seldom  wrote  them  out.  At 
first,  or  in  the  early  part  of  his  ministry,  about 
a  third  was  written,  and  the  rest,  under  the 
impulse  of  the  occasion,  flowed  out  extempora- 
neously. Subsequently  his  notes  were  more 
brief,  and  his  sermons  were  distinguished  by 
greater  simplicity  and  pathos.  But  he  had  the 
rare  talent  of  putting  down  in  his  memory 
trains  of  thought  and  illustrations  of  varied 
beauty  and  sublimity,  so  that  what  seemed  to 
be  impromptu  was  the  result  of  careful  study 
and  meditation.  He  could  think  out  the  very 
sentences  and  all  the  appropriate  words,  and 
reproduce  them  at  the  given  moment,  so  that 
their  correctness  suggested  previous  writing, 
and  their  natural  and  easy  enunciation  implied 
the  perfection  of  extemporaneous  address.  He 
used  to  say  that  generally  he  premeditated  the 
order  and  the  train  of  thought,  which  he  called 


EEV.  EOBEBT  HALL.  07 

cutting  channels  for  the  onflowing  current,  and 
then  trusted  to  the  occasion  for  the  appropri- 
ate language. 

It  was  with  difficulty  he  could  be  induced 
to  give  any  of  his  sermons  to  the  press.     He 
disliked  the  necessary  revision.    He  had  form- 
ed to  himself  also  so  high  a  standard  of  style, 
that  his  actual  attainments,  as  compared  with 
his  beau  ideal,  disgusted  him.    Through  dint  of 
effort,  those  noble  discourses  which  we  have 
were  wrung  out  of  him.     That  on  practical 
atheism — one  of  the  sublimest  compositions  of 
modern  times— was  kept  on  the  tajois  for  weeks, 
the  author  lying  on  his  back  and  dictating  a 
few  sentences  at  a  time,  altering  and  recon- 
structing them,  adding  this  and  taking  back 
that,  until,  after  the  patience  of  publisher  and 
printer  was  well-nigh  worn  out,  it  reached  the 
long-desired  finis.     But  it  is  worth  a  thousand 
times  more  pains  than  were  taken  to  obtain  it. 
"It  places  Hall's  reputation,"  says  Gregory-, 
"upon  an  eminence  which   it  will  probably 
retain  as  long  as  purity  and  elevation  of  style, 
deeply  philosophical  views  of  the  springs  and 
motives  of  action,  and  correct  theological  senti- 
ments, are  duly  appreciated  in  the  world." 
The  sermon  entitled,  "Sentiments  Proper 


98  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

to  the  Present  Crisis,"  preached  to  the  Bristol 
Guards  during  the  threatened  invasion  of  Na- 
poleon, is  regarded  as  unequalled  for  the  elo- 
quent peroration.  The  last  ten  pages  were 
thought  by  many,  and  by  Mr.  Pitt  among  the 
number,  to  be  fully  equal,  in  genuine  eloquence, 
to  any  passage  of  the  same  length  that  can  be 
selected  from  either  ancient  or  modern  orators. 
The  discourse  also  on  the  death  of  the  Princess 
Charlotte  is  a  beautiful  tissue  of  philosophy 
interwoven  with  religious  sentiment,  express- 
ing in  the  most  tender  and  touching  style  the 
vanity  impressed  on  the  highest  earthly  sta- 
tion, and  the  deep  sympathy  one  feels  in  see- 
ing "youth  and  beauty  and  regal  expectations 
all  suddenly  eclipsed  in  the  darkness  of  death." 
"  In  felicity  of  diction,  in  delicacy  and  pathos, 
in  the  rich  variety  of  the  most  instructive  trains 
of  thought,  in  the  masterly  combination  of  what 
in  eloquence,  philosophy,  and  religion  was  best 
calculated  to  make  a  permanent  and  salutary 
impression,  this  sermon  probably  stands  un- 
rivalled." 

John  Foster  has  considered  Mr.  Hall's 
character  as  a  preacher  in  a  long  article,  writ- 
ten with  candor  and  with  that  critical  acumen 
for  which  the  essayist  was  distinguished.  While 


EEV.  KOBEET  HALL.  99 

conceding  his  unparalleled  powers  as  a  pulpit 
orator,  he  thinks  nevertheless  that  Mr.  Hall's 
greatness  lay  in  a  complete  and  thorough  in- 
tellectuality, which,  without  regard  to  imme- 
diate impression,  seized  the  great  points  of  his 
subject,  illustrated  them  in  the  most  impressive 
manner,  and  rising  by  gradations,  closed  in  an 
explosion  of  great  and  overwhelming  thoughts. 
Foster's  objection  was,  that  the  orator,  absorb- 
ed in  his  subject,  lost  sight  in  some  measure  of 
his  hearers ;  that  the  idea  of  direct  conviction 
was  not  as  prominent  as  it  should  have  been. 
He  admits,  however,  that  at  time.s  Hall  carried 
the  moral  artillery  into  the  business  and  bosoms 
of  his  hearers,  and  that  when  he  did  so,  no 
preacher  whom  he  ever  heard  had  greater 
power.  He  allows  also  that  no  man  seemed 
less  to  court  admiration.  His  whole  air  and 
manner  suggested  the  oblivion  of  self.  "The 
preacher  appeared  wholly  absorbed  in  his  sub- 
ject— given  up  to  its  possession  as  the  single 
actuating  principle  and  impulse.  What  a  con- 
trast to  divers  showy  and  admired  orators ! 
For  who  has  not  witnessed  a  pulpit  exhibition, 
which  unwittingly  told  that  the  speaker  was  to 
be  himself  as  prominent  at  the  least  as  his 
sacred  theme?     Who  has  not  observed  the 


100  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

glimmer  of  a  self-complacent  smile  partly  re- 
flected, as  it  were,  on  his  visage  from  the  plau- 
sive  visages  confronting  him,  and  partly  lighted 
from  within  by  the  blandishment  of  a  still  warm- 
er admirer  ?"  Mr.  Hall's  example  was  the  re- 
verse of  all  this.  There  was  no  studied  adjust- 
ment— nothing  which  seemed  intended  to  at- 
tract applause.  "His  most  splendid  passages 
glistened  or  lasted  for  a  moment,  and  were  gone." 
His  death  made  a  vacuum  which  it  can 
scarcely  be  expected  will  be  filled.  "The  re- 
moval," says  Foster,  "of  any  worthy  minister, 
while  in  full  possession  and  activity  of  his  pow- 
ers, is  a  mournful  occurrence ;  but  there  is  the 
consideration  that  many  such  remain,  and  that 
perhaps  an  equal  may  follow,  where  the  es- 
teemed instructor  is  withdrawn.  But  the  feel- 
ing in  the  present  instance  is  of  a  loss  alto- 
gether irreparable.  The  cultivated  portion  of 
the  hearers  have  a  sense  of  privation  partaking 
of  desolateness.  While  ready  to  give  due 
honor  to  all  valuable  preachers,  and  knowing 
that  the  lights  of  religious  instruction  will  still 
shine  with  useful  lustre  and  new  ones  continu- 
ally arise,  they  involuntarily  and  pensively 
turn  to  look  at  the  last  fading  colors  in  the 
distance  where  the  great  luminary  has  set." 


DR.  THOMAS  CHALMERS.  101 


DR.  THOMAS  CHALMERS. 

• 

While  Kobert  Hall  was  lighting  up  the 
ecclesiastical  firmament  in  England  by  the 
blaze  of  his  eloquence,  another  genius — differ- 
ent, but  not  less  illustrious — was  scattering  his 
auroral  illuminations  upon  the  northern  sky. 
Thomas  Chalmers  had  scarcely  a  peer  among 
Scotland's  illustrious  divines.  He  was  in  his 
day  the  man  of  mark,  exerting  more  influence 
in  the  pulpit  and  in  the  professional  chair  than 
any  other  individual.  To  have  heard  Chal- 
mers preach  was  a  thing  to  be  talked  of  and 
remembered.  Strangers  visiting  Edinburgh 
regarded  this  privilege  as  the  culminating 
point  of  interest.  When  he  preached  in  Lon- 
don there  was  no  edifice  large  enough  to  ac- 
commodate the  multitudes,  including  dignita- 
ries of  the  church,  peers  of  the  realm,  and 
every  class  and  description  of  the  populace. 
Yet  he  himself  was  one  of  the  most  simple- 
minded  and  modest  of  men.  True  greatness  is 
set  off  by  these  contrasts.  The  truth  is,  such 
men  as  Chalmers  and  Hall  seem  to  have  in 


102  ELOQUENT   PEEAOHEES. 

their  mental  vision  so  vast,  a  boundary  of  possi- 
ble attainments,  that,  like  Newton,  they  regard 
their  acquisitions  but  as  pebbles  on  the  ocean- 
strand  of  knowledge. 

At»first,  Chalmers  attempted  to  unite  the 
philosopher  with  the  minister.  He  was  as 
much  concerned  in  his  botanical  excursions  as 
he  was  in  developing  the  moral  virtues  of  his 
parishioners.  But  the  grace  of  God  touching 
and  transforming  the  inner  man,  the  botany 
and  the  philosophy  were  laid  on  the  altar  of 
sacrifice,  and  henceforth  he  knew  nothing 
among  men  but  the  higher  sphere  of  evangel- 
ical truth. 

The  fame  of  such  a  man  could  not  be  re- 
stricted to  the  little  parish  of  Kilmany,  which 
was  his  first  field  of  labor  when  a  young  man. 
A  delegation  from  Glasgow  having  caught  the 
rumor  of  his  celebrity,  and  being  in  pursuit  of 
a  candidate  for  the  Tron  church,  went  to  Kil- 
many to  hear  him.  He  preached  that  Sunday 
from  a  plank  extended  out  of  the  church  win- 
dow at  Bendochy,  as  the  crowd  was  too  great 
to  be  accommodated  within  the  building.  It 
was  a  funeral  sermon  in  behalf  of  his  brave 
comrade  Rev.  John  Hovey,  who  had  sacrificed 
his  own  life  in  desperate  efforts  to  save  a  ship- 


DK.  THOMAS  CHALMERS.  103 

wrecked  company.  Chalmers'  whole  soul  was 
drawn  out  on  the  occasion,  and  the  delegation 
returned  in  raptures  and  reported  accordingly. 
Kilmany  lost  and  Glasgow  gained  the  greatest 
of  Scotland's  pulpit  orators.  But  Chalmers, 
like  many  others  who  have  been  seduced  from 
the  sweet  retirement  of  rural  life,  was  never 
so  happy  amid  the  throng  and  pressure  of  ad- 
miring crowds  as  when  ministering  to  his  hum- 
ble Kilmany  flock.  n  Many  backward  glances 
cast  he  on  that  dearly  loved  field  of  his  early 
labors. 

His  popularity  in  Glasgow  was  so  great  as 
to  become  not  only  exhausting,  but  at  times 
almost  intolerable.  It  insulated  him,  in  a  great 
measure,  from  his  ministerial  brethren.  It 
made  exchange  of  pulpits  next  to  impossible, 
while  at  the  same  time  it  subjected  him  to  con- 
stant and  vexatious  interruptions.  To  use  his 
own  simile,  he  was  "like  a  man  with  his  head 
in  the  clouds  and  his  feet  on  the  shifting  sands." 
But  such  are  the  penalties  of  genius,  and  such 
the  trials  of  excessive  popularity. 

When  Dr.  Chalmers  went  to  Glasgow  he 
was  in  the  full  vigor  of  his  physical  and  intel- 
lectual manhood.  His  appearance  was  strik- 
ing, but  unique.     Strong  built  and  very  mus- 


104  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

cular,  his  forehead  was  broad  and  high,  with 
black  hair  carelessly  overshadowing  it.  His 
eyes  were  set  far  apart,  with  drooping  upper 
lids,  and  that  portion  of  the  nose  which  divided 
them  was  unusually  full.  His  eyebrows  were 
thick,  and  beneath  them  lay  those  indescriba- 
ble orbs,  which  in  repose  possessed. a  slum- 
brous intelligence,  but  which,  in  the  heated 
march  of  mind,  when  the  latent  fires  began  to ' 
glow,  put  on  an  overpowering  brilliancy.  "The 
eyes  themselves,"  says  one  taking  a  verbal 
daguerreotype  of  him,  "are  light  in  color,  and 
have  a  strange,  dreamy  heaviness,  which  con- 
veys any  idea  rather  than  that  of  dulness,  but 
which  contrasts  in  a  wonderful  manner  with 
the  dazzling  watery  glare  they  exhibit  when 
expanded  in  their  sockets  and  illuminated  into 
all  their  flame  and  fervor  in  some  moment  of 
high  entranced  enthusiasm.  The  upper  lip, 
from  the  nose  downward,  is  separated  by  a 
very  deep  line,  which  gives  a  sort  of  leonine 
firmness  of  expression  to  all  the  lower  part  of 
the  face.  The  cheeks  are  square  and  strong'; 
in  texture,  like  pieces  of  marble."  All  this 
strong,  rugged  aspect,  however,  grew  softened 
with  age;  and  the  portrait  which  the  writer 
secured  in  Glasgow,  taken  after  he  was  sixty, 


DK.  THOMAS  CHALMEES.  105 

has  a  sweet  and  touching  pensiveness,  com- 
bined with  a  certain  intellectual  majesty,  illus- 
trative both  of  the  greatness  and  goodness  of 
the  original.  His  daughter,  whom  I  visited  at 
"Morning  Side,"  pronounced  it  an  admirable 
likeness. 

In  regard  to  Dr.  Chalmers'  manner  of  de- 
livery, all  unite  in  asserting  that  it  would  not 
stand  the  test  of  oratorical  criticism.  If  it  was 
forcible,  it  certainly  was  not  graceful.  It  set 
at  defiance  all  the  rules  of  the  rhetorician.  In 
the  beginning  of  his  discourse  the  auditor  was 
disappointed.  Indeed  there  was  a  feeling  as 
if  the  speaker  would  actually  break  down  at 
the  outset.  "His  voice," says  one,  "is  neither 
strong  nor  melodious  ;  his  gestures  are  neither 
easy  nor  graceful ;  his  pronunciation  is  not 
only  broadly  national,  but  broadly  provincial. 
But  of  a  truth,  these  are  things  which  no  lis- 
tener can  attend  to  while  this  great  preacher 
stands  before  him  armed  with  all  the  weapons 
of  the  most  commanding  eloquence,  and  sway- 
ing all  around  him  with  its  imperial  rule.  At 
first,  indeed,  there  is  nothing  to  make  one  sus- 
pect what  riches  are  in  store.  There  is  an 
appearance  of  constraint  about  him  that  affects 
and  distresses  you.     You  are  afraid  that  his 

5* 


106  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

breast  is  weak,  and  that  even  the  slight  exer- 
tion he  makes  may  be  too  much  for  it.  But 
then  with  what  tenfold  richness  does  this  dim 
preliminary  curtain  make  the  glories  of  his 
eloquence  shine  forth  when  the  heated  spirit 
at  length  shakes  from  its  chill,  confining  fet- 
ters, and  bursts  out,  elate  and  rejoicing,  in  the 
full  splendor  of  its  disimprisoned  wings." 

His  visit  to  London  in  1817  created  an 
excitement  deeper  and  more  general  than  had 
been  witnessed  since  the  days  of  Whitefield. 
His  principal  discourse  on  that  occasion  was 
in  behalf  of  the  London  Missionary  Society, 
delivered  in  Surry  chapel.  The  audience  was 
immense  and  of  the  most  intelligent  class. 
Expectations  were  high.  The  fame  of  this 
great  pulpit  orator  had  preceded  him.  Old 
Rowland  Hill  stood  up  before  the  pulpit,  with 
his  hands  resting  on  the  top  of  the  pew,  and 
his  eye  fixed  on  the  preacher.  As  usual,  the 
first  efforts  were  awkward,  the  voice  feeble, 
the  accent  broadly  Scotch,  and  the  whole 
aspect  of  things  disheartening.  The  cold  sweat 
stood  on  Hill's  face.  "It  is  a  failure,"  said  he 
to  himself.  But  in  a  few  moments  the  pon- 
derous machinery  began  to  move  with  more 
regularity  and  greater  speed.     Sentence  after 


DB.  THOMAS  CHALMEKS.  107 

sentence  rolled  forth  in  that  majestic  strain 
peculiar  to  Chalmers.  Old  Rowland's  eyes 
began  to  glisten.  The  anxiety  passed  from 
his  brow.  Soon  his  whole  soul  was  collected 
in  his  face  as  he  watched  the  onward  march 
of  that  gigantic  intellect.  By  and  by  one  of 
those  corruscations  of  genius,  so  peculiar  to 
the  speaker,  was  thrown  off,  which  set  the 
whole  audience  in  a  blaze,  and  Hill,  no  lon- 
ger able  to  contain  himself,  brought  his  two 
hands  down  upon  the  rail,  exclaiming  in  audi- 
ble tones,  "Well  done,  Chalmers!" 

"I  write,"  says  one  describing  the  scene, 
"under  the  nervousness  of  having  heard  and 
witnessed  the  most  astonishing  display  of  hu- 
man talent  that  perhaps  ever  commanded  sight 
or  hearing.  Dr.  Chalmers  has  just  finished  his 
discourse  before  the  Missionary  Society.  All 
my  expectations  were  overwhelmed  in  the  tri- 
umph of  it."  "All  the  world,"  writes  Wilber- 
force,  "is  wild  about  Chalmers.  Vast  crowds 
of  the  nobility  attend.  I  was  surprised  to  see 
how  greatly  Canning  was  affected.  At  times 
he  was  quite  melted  into  tears.  He  is  report- 
ed to  have  said,  that  although  at  first  he  felt 
uneasy  in  consequence  of  Dr.  Chalmers'  man- 
ner and  accent,  yet  that  he  had  never  been  so 


108  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

arrested  by  any  oratory.     'The  Tartan/  said 
he,  '  beats  us  all.'  " 

How  are  we  to  account  for  such  an  over- 
whelming effect  in  view  of  the  impediments 
alluded  to  ?  There  must  have  been  an  inde- 
scribable charm  somewhere — a  magnetic  influ- 
ence in  the  spirit  of  the  man,  that  impregnated 
those  lofty  and  long-drawn  sentences  with  a 
life  and  power  that  swayed  all  hearts  and  led 
captive  all  intellects.  There  was  a  correspond- 
ence between  his  peculiar  style  of  writing  and 
the  fervid  oratory  through  which  it  flowed 
out  upon  the  audience.  The  writing  was  not 
less  unique  than  the  delivery.  Who  would 
undertake  to  read  Chalmers'  sermons  from  the 
pulpit?  Who  has  chest  enough  and  breath 
enough  to  give  full  force  to  thoughts  that  roll 
out  by  dependent  sentences  until  they  stretch, 
ere  they  reach  a  period,  over  an  entire  printed 
page  ?  He  struck  out  a  new.  path  for  his  great 
genius  to  travel  in.  All  classical  models  are 
set  at  defiance.  His  ideas,  which  were  grand 
•and  glowing,  could  not  be  cramped  by  ordi- 
nary rhetorical  rules.  So  he  took  that  style 
which  gave  scope  to  them.  The  majestic  march 
of  his  periods  is  truly  wonderful.  There  is  a 
sort  of  poetical  rhythm  about  them.     One  is 


DK.  THOMAS  CHALMEKS.  109 

fascinated  and  allured  on,  as  if  traversing  a 
flowery  and  fragrant  road  that  leads  to  some 
high  castellated  tower  or  luminous  mountain 
summit,  where  the  prospect  is  both  varied  and 
boundless.  We  give  ourselves  up  to  the  mag- 
ical power  of  his  eloquent  diction.  We  take 
hold  of  the  golden  chain  which  he  offers  us, 
and  which  develops  link  after  link,  until  it 
binds  the  intellect  and  the  imagination  in  a 
willing  bondage.  There  is  no  writer  who 
seizes  you  with  a  firmer  hand,  or  holds  you 
more  spell-bound,  until  he  fixes  in  your  mind 
the  ideas  which  he  is  illustrating.  Generally 
there  is  unity  in  the  thought,  but  endless  vari- 
ety in  the  illustrations.  He  carries  out  the 
principle  that  a  sermon  should  have  one  grand 
culminating  point;  and  that  every  thing  said, 
every  process  of  reasoning  employed,  every 
figure  used,  should  tend  to  develop  and  give 
force  to  this  ruling  idea.  He  has  been  found 
fault  with  for  ringing  so  many  changes  upon 
one  thought.  Some  have  compared  it  to  a 
door  swinging  on  its  hinges,  complaining  that 
there  was  not  enough  onward  movement.  Oth- 
ers have  compared  his  sermons  to  a  kaleido- 
scope, where  the  same  materials,  by  a  turn  of 
the  instrument,  exhibit  new  and  beautiful  com- 


110  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEKS. 

binations.  But  it  is  useless  to  criticize,  when 
it  is  known  and  conceded  that  no  pulpit  orator 
had  greater  sway  over  intelligent  minds  than 
Thomas  Chalmers.  In  regard  to  style  and 
oratory,  he  called  no  man  master.  Both  his 
thoughts  and  the  mode  of  giving  them  utter- 
ance are  his  own.  They  are  simply  Chal- 
merian. 

His  sermons  and  discourses,  as  merely 
read,  carry  one  along  in  a  feeling  of  ecstatic 
pleasure,  prompting  the  expression  occasion- 
ally, "How  splendid!"  What  then  must  it 
have  been  to  sit  and  listen  to  the  author,  when, 
under  a  full  appreciation  of  the  sentiments,  he 
poured  forth  in  glowing  periods  the  high  and 
holy  thoughts,  until  the  whole  audience-cham- 
ber was  lighted  up  as  with  a  sort  of  intellect- 
ual conflagration.  "Of  all  human  composi- 
tions," says  one,  "there  is  none  surely  that 
loses  so  much  as  a  sermon  does  when  it  is 
made  to  address  itself  to  the  eye  of  a  solitary 
student  in  his  closet,  and  not  to  the  thrilling 
ears  of  a  mighty  mingled  congregation  through 
the  very  voice  which  nature  has  enriched  with 
notes  more  expressive  than  words  can  ever 
be,  of  the  meanings  and  feelings  of  its  author. 
Neither  perhaps  did  the  world  ever  possess 


DE.  THOMAS  CHALMEES.  Ill 

any  orator  whose  minutest  jflculiarities  of  ges- 
ture and  voice  have  more  power  in  increasing 
the  effect  of  what  he  says,  than  do  those  of  Dr. 
Chalmers.  Most  unquestionably"  I  have  never 
heard  either  in  England  or  Scotland,  or  in  any 
other  country,  any  preacher  whose  eloquence 
is  capable  of  producing  an  effect  so  strong  and 
irresistible  as  his." 

As  this  sketch  is  designed  to  present  Dr. 
Chalmers  simply  as  an  eloquent  preacher,  we 
refrain  from  the  consideration  of  his  practical 
philanthropy.  His  heart  was  as  full  of  good- 
ness as  was  his  intellect  of  greatness  ;  and 
Scotland  might  with  as  much  propriety  erect 
a  monument  for  him  as  for  the  great  novelist. 
But  Chalmers  needs  "no  storied  urn  nor  ani- 
mated bust"  to  perpetuate  his  memory.  He 
will  live  in  the  hearts  of  the  good  and  great  so 
long  as  time  shall  last ;  and  when  time  shall  be 
no  more,  his  name  will  be  found  emblazoned 
on  the  records  of  immortality. 


112  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 


REV.  HENRY  MELVILL,  LONDON. 

Melvill,  without  doubt,  stands  preeminent 
as  an  evangelical  preacher.  His  celebrity  has 
a  firm  basis,  not  likely  to  be  undermined  by 
the  shifting  opinions  and  prejudices  of  the 
populace..  The  physical  man  may  and  must 
succumb  to  the  increasing  infirmities  of  age, 
but  as  yet,  though  apparently  near  seventy, 
he  seems  to  possess  all  the  animation  and 
vigor  of  his  earlier  ministry.  His  fame  has 
gone  forth  on  the. four  winds,  and  everywhere, 
even  in  distant  countries,  he  is  spoken  of  as  a 
noble  representative  of  the  evangelical  portion 
of  the  English  national  church.  Those  who 
have  not  heard  him  have  access  to  his  pub- 
lished sermons,  and  we  in  America  owe  a  debt 
of  gratitude  to  Bishop  Mcllvaine  for  the  reprint 
of  a  most  interesting  collection  of  his  discourses 
on  the  various  topics  of  Christian  duty  and 
doctrine.  In  the  printed  page  he  appears 
great,  and  the  impress  of  sanctified  genius 
glows  in  every  sentence,  and  makes  his  writ- 
ings the  delight  of  all  whose  hearts  are  in  sym- 
pathy with  God's  truth.     But  there  is  nothing 


EEV.  HENEY  MELVILL.  113 

like  the  oral  annunciation — the  truth  as  it  falls 
from  lips  touched  with  hallowed  fire.  To  feel 
the  full  force  of  his  sentiments,  one  must  seat 
himself  under  this  great  master  of  eloquent 
utterances,  and  allow  him  unresisted  sway 
over  the  imagination,  the  intellect,  and  the 
heart. 

When  I  came  to  sit  under  Melvill,  all  my 
preconceived  notions  of  the  truly  eloquent 
preacher  found  a  realization  in  his  simple,  for- 
cible, and  natural  mode  of  writing  and  speaking. 
His  style  is  admirably  adapted  to  convey, 
clearly  and  forcibly,  gospel  truth.  It  has  not 
the  magnificent  drapery  of  Chalmers,  nor  the 
measured  inarch  of  Massillon's  periods.  It 
partakes  of  the  virtues  of  both,  without  the 
faults  of  either.  It  is  pure  Saxon  baptized  in 
a  classical  font,  having  the  strength  of  the 
Greek  and  the  beauty  of  the  Roman. 

As  a  lecturer  in  St.  Margaret's,  an  oppor- 
tunity was  enjoyed  almost  every  week  of 
hearing  him  on  Tuesday  at  eleven  o'clock. 
Availing  myself  of  this  information,  I  proceed- 
ed at  the  appointed  hour  to  the  place  of  wor- 
ship. This  lecture  is  an  institution  of  long- 
standing, and  is  accompanied  with  lucrative 
perquisites.    The  position  of  the  church,  in  the 


114  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

very  focus  of  commercial  life,  under  almost 
the  shadow  of  the  Bank  of  England,  and  sur- 
rounded by  merchants  and  money-changers, 
offers  to  the  sons  of  traffic  an  opportunity  to 
let  the  treasure  from  heaven  break  in  upon 
their  visions  of  earthly  gain.  And  many  of 
them  avail  themselves  of  the  privilege.  Leav- 
ing for  an  hour  their  offices  and  accounts  cur- 
rent, they  hasten,  at  the  tolling  of  the  bell,  to 
recreate  their  higher  nature  under  the  elo- 
quent droppings  of  the  sanctuary. 

Passing  on  with  the  crowd,  I  found  a  sea,t 
in  the  old-fashioned  church,  and  cast  my  eyes 
about  to  see  the  audience,  and  to  search  for 
him  especially  whose  presence  was  the  attrac- 
tive centre.  The  congregation  was  highly 
respectable,  composed  more  of  men  than  of 
women,  and  having  a  very  serious  as  well  as 
intelligent  look.  In  the  desk  was  stationed  a 
gowned  official,  who  promptly  began  the  ser- 
vice. Was  this  Melvill?  It  could  not  be. 
He  was  too  young.  His  reading  was  bad. 
His  whole  air  was  that  of  a  very  common 
man.  Was  I  to  be  disappointed?  It  could 
hardly  be,  methought,  as  I  saw  this  crowd 
evidently  under  the  excitement  of  high  expec- 
tation.    In  the  chancel,  as  it  is  called,  I  ob- 


BEV.  HENRY  MELVILL.  115 

served  a 'fine,  venerable  figure,  with  prayer- 
book  in  hand,  uttering  loudly  but  solemnly 
the  responses.  That  man,  thought  I,  person- 
ates my  previous  idea  of  the  great  preacher. 
He  seemed  about  sixty-five.  His  hair  was 
quite  gray,  almost  white.  His  features  might 
be  called  coarse.  But  this  was  more  in  the 
shape  than  in  the  expression,  which  was  that 
of  a  man  of  high  culture  and  disciplined  pas- 
sions. If  nature  had  given  his  countenance  a 
somewhat  coarse  mould,  grace  had  softened 
every  feature  into  a  subdued  and  attractive 
gentleness.  His  eyes  were  not  bright  nor 
very  expressive  in  repose,  and  the  lids  droop- 
ing over  them  gave  a  pensive  expression,  which 
rather  interested  you. 

When  the  reader  had  concluded,  and  the 
hymn  had  been  sung,  this  venerable  man 
ascended  the  sacred  desk,  and  assumed  the 
attitude  of  devotion.  I  knew  then  that  I  was 
not  to  be  disappointed.  Melvill  it  was  whom 
I  had  heard  uttering  the  responses.  Stillness 
reigned,  deep,  unbroken,  with  every  eye  turn- 
ed to  one  spot.  Speaker  and  auditor  felt  the 
heart  beat  more  quickly,  and  that  silence  was 
premonitory  of  the  thunder  peals  that  were 
soon  to  break  upon  us. 


116  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

He  began  by  saying  that  as  this  was  the 
last  public  service  which  he  should  render  for 
several  weeks  to  come,  and  that  in  the  myste- 
rious movements  of  Providence,  it  was  possible 
that  neither  he  nor  they  might  meet  again  in 
the  relation  of  preacher  and  hearer,  he  had 
been  casting  about  for  a  text  which  should  be 
the  foundation  of  a  pertinent  valedictory,  and 
which  should  embrace  some  one  of  the  great 
truths  on  which  our  salvation  depends.  He 
had  selected  the  following:  "So  then  they 
that  are  in  the  flesh  cannot  please  God." 

After  a  brief  introduction,  striking  but 
simple,  he  went  on  to  illustrate  the  great  prin- 
ciple contained  in  the  passage— that  without 
regeneration,  wrought  in  the  heart  by  the 
Holy  Ghost,  nothing,  in  the  way  of  professed 
obedience,  could  be  acceptable  to  God.  This 
he  did,  first  by  conceding  to  the  unrenewed 
man  all  the  amiable,  patriotic,  and  philan- 
thropic traits  which  were  claimed  for  him. 
It  was  done  in  a  masterly  manner,  developing 
a  deep  knowledge  of  human  nature.  Then  as 
he  proceeded  to  bring  up  this  assumed  excel- 
lence and  measure  it  by  the  requirements  of 
the  law  and  the  gospel,  how  keen  and  search- 
ing was  his  analysis.     Not  only  was  every  eye 


EEV.  HENKY  MELVILL.  117 

fixed,  but  every  heart  began  to  palpitate.  We 
felt  as  if  lie  were  marching  us  up  to  the  judg- 
ment bar.  Those  covered  orbs  began  to  show 
themselves:  the  curtains  began  to  lift,  and  a 
fire  to  flash  out  upon  us,  while  the  deep  tones 
of  his  voice  rang,  trumpet-like,  throughout  the 
house.  His  sentences  were  sometimes  short 
and  terribly  sharp.  There  was  a  great  con- 
densation. It  came  like  quick  claps  of  thun- 
der. We  were  more  than  awe-struck.  In 
some  parts  we  were  ready  to  exclaim,  Hold — 
enough.  But  as  he  drew  towards  the  close, 
the  storm  seemed  to  subside,  and  the  bow  of 
mercy  spanned  the  dark,  retiring  cloud.  Lift- 
ing those  eyes  and  hands  towards  heaven,  in 
a  tender  and  tremulous  voice,  he  cried,  "  Oh, 
holy  and  blessed  Spirit,  come  from  thy  throne 
of  light  and  love,  and  soften  and  subdue  and 
transform  these  souls  of  ours,  taking  away  the 
heart  of  stone,  and  giving  us  the  heart  of 
flesh." 

From  this  specimen  I  was  satisfied  that  the 
reputation  of  Melvill  had  not  been  overstated. 
He  must  take  rank  with  the  foremost  of  his 
profession.  His  delivery  is  rapid,  yet  distinct. 
He  makes  few  or  no  gestures.  He  just  puts 
his  soul  into  the  discourse,  and  goes  on  with  a 


118  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

progressive  earnestness  and  animation  that 
electrifies  the  whole  assembly.  What  a  bless- 
ing it  is  to  the  Established  church  to  have 
prominent  among  her  ministry  a  man  of  so 
much  taste,  intellect,  and  piety — a  man  who 
unites  apparently  much  of  the  zeal  of  Paul, 
with  the  eloquence  of  an  Apollos. 

The  discourse  which  I  heard  was,  I  have 
no  doubt,  one  of  his  best,  and  was  delivered 
in  his  best  manner.  The  circumstance  of  its 
being  the  last  of  the  season,  the  apparent  care 
with  which  it  had  been  composed,  the  deep 
feeling  under  which  he  gave  it  utterance,  all 
conspired  to  render  it  such.  But  it  is  said 
that  all  these  lectures  are  prepared  with  great 
labor,  and  as  they  are  immediately  given  to 
the  general  public  through  the  press,  the 
author  takes  care  that  they  shall  be  as  perfect 
as  it  is  in  his  power  to  make  them.  No  min- 
ister in  Great  Britain  exerts,  through  the  pul- 
pit and  the  press,  a  wider  and  more  evangeli- 
cal influence  than  the  lecturer  of  St.  Margaret's. 
We  shall  hold  in  grateful  remembrance  the 
occasion  above  alluded  to,  and  the  opportunity 
of  listening  to  this  unsurpassed  pulpit  orator. 


REV.  ROWLAND  HILL.  119 


REV.  ROWLAND  HILL. 

The  name  of  Rowland  Hill  is  almost  as 
well  known  and  as  wide  spread  as  that  of 
George  Whitefield.  The  latter,  like  the  Apoc- 
alyptic angel,  flew  on  strong  wing  from  conti- 
nent to  continent,  while  Hill  confined  his  labors 
to  the  land  of  his  birth.  Within  that  sphere, 
however,  no  minister  acquired  and  maintained 
a  greater  sway  over  the  popular  mind.  He 
was  heard  by  the  common  people  gladly.  And 
yet  it  was  not  an  unusual  sight  to  see  the  star 
and  the  ribbon  glittering  among  the  plainly 
clad  auditors  of  Surrey  Chapel. 

Had  Rowland  Hill  sprung  from  the  ple- 
beian ranks,  instead  of  being  connected  with 
aristocratic  circles,  it  may  be  questionable 
whether  his  fame  would  have  stood  out  in  such 
bold  relief.  It  was  owing  in  part  to  the  fact 
that  his  father  was  a  baronet  of  high  standing, 
while  several  of  his  relations  occupied  honora- 
ble positions  in  civil  and  military  life,  that  he, 
the  clerical  member  of  the  family,  took  a  higher 
and  more  conspicuous  stand  than  if  no  such 
collateral  advantages  had  existed.     He  pos- 


120  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

sessed  too  an  ample  fortune,  which  raised 
him  to  an  independent  position,  and  enabled 
him  to  enjoy  the  blessedness  of  giving  more 
than  he  received.  But  aside  from  all  this, 
Rowland  Hill  was  a  man  of  genius,  a  minister 
of  the  apostolical  stamp,  and  an  orator  wdio 
could  sway  an  audience  almost  as  the  wind 
sways  the  bending  reed. 

He  entered  the  ministry  in  early  life ;  and 
his  first  efforts  at  preaching,  made  in  the  neigh- 
borhood of  his  own  home,  gave  such  promise 
as  led  his  father  to  acquiesce  in  the  decision 
which  young  Hill  had  made,  to  devote  his  life 
to  the  great  work  of  preaching  the  gospel. 

He  was  a  tall,  straight,  noble-looking  young 
man.  His  features  were  Wellingtonian,  so  to 
speak,  having  a  prominent  Roman  nose,  and  a 
small  but  speaking  eye.  "His  countenance," 
says  one,  "was  expressive  of  the  complexion 
of  his  mind ;  and  the  play  upon  his  lips  and  the 
piercing  look  of  his  small  gray  eyes  denoted 
both  intelligence  and  humor.  When  between 
fifty  and  sixty  years  of  age,  his  fine,  upright 
figure,  combined  with  a  high-bred,  gentleman- 
like deportment,  caused  him  to  be  the  subject 
of  general  admiration." 

His  voice  had  great  compass,  and  he  could 


BEV.  EOWLAND  HILL.  121 

vary  its  volume  or  expression  to  suit  the  sen- 
timent. He  was  a  man  of  strong,  but  well- 
regulated  passions,  easily  and  deeply  excited ; 
and  when  the  topic  justified  their  develop- 
ment, as  when  he  delivered  the  terrors  of  the 
law,  it  seemed  almost  as  if  he  was  bran- 
dishing the  thunderbolts  of  heaven.  Yet  no 
man  had  less  severity  in  his  heart,  whatever 
apparent  severity  there  might  occasionally 
have  been  in  his  manner.  His  sensibilities 
were  almost  as  tender  as  those  of  woman,  and 
"his  eyes  more  frequently  wept  than  flashed, 
and  his  tones  were  oftener  subduing  than  start- 
ling. In  fact,  the  love  of  Christ  was  the  theme 
upon  which  he  loved  most  and  longest  to  dwell. 
He  led  his  auditors  oftener  to  Calvary  than  to 
Sinai ;  and  the  pictures  of  softest  and  tenclerest 
beauty  which  he  drew,  were  those  in  which 
the  cross  was  the  central  figure. 

Rowland  Hill  was  a  connecting  link  between 
the  era  of  Whitefield's  power  and  that  of  Hall 
and  Chalmers,  having  in  his  younger  years  sat 
at  the  feet  of  the  former,  and  in  his  old  age 
looked  with  admiring  wonder  on  the  two  great 
pulpit  orators  of  England  and  of  Scotland; 
but  his  own  style  and  manner  were  modelled 
after  Whitefield's.     The  mantle  of  Whitefield 

Eloqueut  Preachers.  (> 


122  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

seemed  in  fact  to  have  fallen  more  upon  Hill 
than  upon  any  other  man.  To  him  Whitefield 
was  the  imaginative  type  of  all  ministerial  ex- 
cellence, and  he  strained  every  nerve  to  get 
as  near  to  his  eloquent  standard  as  possible. 
Some  traits  he  had  which  reminded  the  hear- 
ers of  Whitefield;  His  voice,  so  strong  and 
varied ;  the  power  of  illustration,  so  pertinent 
and  striking;  the  apt  manner  of  seizing  on 
passing  events  and  circumstances,  and  weav- 
ing them  at  once  into  his  discourse ;  his  entire 
consecration,  together  with  his  intense  love  of 
souls,  and  his  almost  superhuman  labors  for 
their  conversion ;  his  deep  feeling,  choking  his 
utterance  and  filling  his  eyes  with  tears ;  his 
bursts  of  sublime  eloquence,  carrying  the  audi- 
ence away  as  with  a  tempest:  all  these  fea- 
tures of  the  man  and  of  the  orator  justified  the 
popular  decision  that  he,  more  than  any  minis- 
ter, had  a  right  to  the  mantle  of  the  departed 
Whitefield. 

Eowland  Hill  has  been  censured  for  indulg- 
ing in  the  pulpit  his  propensity  for  humor. 
Nature  had  endowed  him  with  this  faculty  in 
a  high  degree.  It  was  almost  impossible  not 
to  allow  it  some  influence ;  and  it  may  be  ques- 
tionable whether,  under  a  reasonable  restraint, 


EEV.  ROWLAND  HILL.  123 

it  be  not  an  important  element  in  pulpit  elo- 
quence. Certain  it  is  that  it  tends  to  awaken 
an  interest  in  a  class  of  hearers  who  might  oth- 
erwise remain  listless,  and  to  catch  the  atten- 
tion when,  under  the  constant  pressure  of  sol- 
emn truths,  it  might  seek  for  relief  from  other 
and  worldly  associations.  Says  one,  "He  had 
naturally  a  keen  sense  of  the  ludicrous,  which 
seemed  at  times  to  spread  its  influence  over 
the  entire  surface  of  his  mind.  Like  a  vapory 
cloud  floating  across  the  face  of  a  luminary  of 
the  heavens,  some  comic  idea  would  dim  for  an 
instant  the  lustre  of  his  higher  conceptions; 
but  on  its  passing  away  suddenly,  his  imagina- 
tion shone  forth  in  all  its  splendor,  and  gener- 
ally led  him  into  the  opposite  expressions  of 
pathos  and  sublimity." 

Rowland  Hill's  sermons  were  almost  en- 
tirely extemporaneous.  Having  chosen  his 
text  with  a  view  to  set  in  a  forcible  light  some 
great  doctrinal  or  practical  truth,  he  had  the 
faculty  of  arranging  with  wonderful  rapidity 
the  divisions  and  illustrations  of  the  discourse. 
This  he  could  do  at  a  moment's  warning.  In 
fact,  some  of  his  happiest  efforts  and  his  most 
powerful  discourses  were  from  texts  selected 
in  the  pulpit  or  suggested  by  some  unexpected 


124  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

circumstance.  On  such  occasions  his  arrange- 
ment of  thought  was  as  quick  as  his  utterance 
was  ready.  He  depended  on  the  presence  of 
an  audience  to  fire  up  his  own  soul,  and  to  cre- 
ate that  electrical  sympathy  which  is  so  essen-1 
tial  to  the  power  and  success  of  an  orator.  He 
held  that  men  wanted  rousing  and  exciting  to 
the  performance  of  duties  which  they  acknow- 
ledged obligatory — that  there  was  more  need 
of  earnest  appeal  than  of  calm  instruction ;  and 
so  he  filled  his  quiver  with  shafts,  whose  burn- 
ing tips  he  sent  with  a  strong  arm  against  the 
panoplied  bosoms  of  the  impenitent. 

Another  feature  of  his  eloquence  was,  that 
it  was  all  natural — the  warm  outpourings  of 
unsophisticated  feeling.  Says  his  biographer, 
1 '  The  great  secret  perhaps  of  the  amazing  effect 
of  his  preaching  was  its  being  all  nature.  He 
generally  chose  the  subject  which  impressed 
and  affected  his  own  mind,  and  discoursed  on 
it  as  he  felt,  not  as  he  had  previously  thought; 
and  thus,  on  every  occasion,  whether  joyous  or 
grievous,  he  found  his  way  to  hearts  whose 
strings  vibrated  in  unison  with  those  of  his 
own.  Sheridan  used  to  say  of  him,  '  I  go  to 
hear  Rowland  Hill,  because  his  ideas  come 
red-hot  from  the  heart.'  " 


KEV.  ROWLAND  HILL.  125 

But  there  was  still  another  trait  as  promi- 
nent as  his  naturalness — his  boldness.  Every 
listener  was  struck  with  it.  He  neither  courted 
the  favor  nor  feared  the  opposition  of  men. 
He  could  preach  with  calm  composure  under 
the  threatenings  of  bigoted  ecclesiastics  or  the 
terrible  mutterings  of  mob  violence.  If  roy- 
alty itself  had  mingled  among  his  hearers,  he 
would  not  have  deviated  from  the  strict  line 
of  evangelical  truth.  Describing  the  different 
styles  of  preachers,  among  others  he  speaks 
of  the  bold  manner;  that  is,  "the  man  who 
preaches  what  he  feels,  without  fear  or  diffi- 
dence." To  no  minister  would  this  more  em- 
phatically apply  than  to  himself. 

True  it  is,  Mr.  Hill's  social  position  and 
his  large  fortune  raising  him  above  the  temp- 
tation to  secure  by  conciliation  the  favor  of  any 
class  of  hearers,  made  the  exercise  of  this  vir- 
tue perhaps  less  self-denying  than  if  he  had 
.drawn  his  support  from  titled  patrons  or  from 
voluntary  contributions.  Still,  we  must  admire 
the  heroic  stand  which  he  took  and  maintained 
when,  to  preach  the  great  truths  of  the  gospel, 
as  he  habitually  did,  in  open  fields  and  in 
unsteepled  chapels,  rendered  him  the  object 
of  sneers  in  high  life,  and  sometimes  of  per- 


126  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

sonal  abuse  by  the  mob.  But  lie  outlived  all 
this ;  and  the  clouds  which  gathered  portentous 
over  his  early  ministry,  and  which  settled  so 
black  occasionally  on  his  mid-day  career,  after 
having  discharged  their  harmless  thunders, 
passed  away,  leaving  his  evening  days  all 
luminous  with  a  full-orbed  reputation.  After 
a  long  and  eventful  life,  nearly  the  whole  of 
which  was  devoted  to  preaching  Christ  and 
winning  souls  to  his  cross,  he  sunk  gradually 
under  the  weight  of  almost  fivescore  years, 
leaving  behind  him  a  character  as  remarkable 
for  unsullied  purity  as  it  was  for  matchless 
eloquence  and  for  practical  benevolence. 


REV.  LEGH  RICHMOND.  127 


REV.  LEGH  RICHMOND. 

Lege  Richmond's  name  and  fame  are  as- 
sociated with  a  precious  volume  entitled,  "  An- 
nals of  the  Poor."  "The  Dairyman's  Daugh- 
ter "  and  "  The  Young  Cottager  "  are  portraits 
of  such  moral  beauty  as  to  attract  all  Chris- 
tian hearts,  and  place  them  under  obligations 
to  the  celebrated  limner.  He  has  combined 
in  these  sketches  both  the  skill  and  enthusiasm 
of  the  true  artist.  Every  thing  is  so  simple, 
so  fresh,  so  beautiful.  Elizabeth  Wallbridge 
calls  out  the  young  pastor  of  Brading,  and 
from  her  lonely  cot,  teaches  him  how  to  min- 
ister to  the  poor  of  Christ's  flock.  She  asks 
him  to  accompany  her  on  her  brightening  path, 
and  bids  him  an  affectionate  farewell  at  the 
gate  of  death.  Little  Jane,  "the  Young  Cot- 
tager," with  the  sweetest  modesty  sits  at  his 
feet,  learns  the  way  to  heaven,  and  then  walks 
on  to  its  golden  gates,  which  she  soon  reaches ; 
when,  throwing  her  arms  about  Mr.  Richmond's 
neck,  she  bids  him  farewell,  and  expires  on 
his  bosom. 

Here  he  took  his  first  lesson  in  the  divine 


128  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

and  holy  work  of  feeding  the  lambs  of  Christ's 
flock,  watching  their  heavenward  progress,  and 
smoothing  the  rough  pathway,  until  they  were 
safe  in  the  arms  of  "  the  good  Shepherd." 

These  scenes  transpired  in  the  Isle  of 
Wight,  that  gem  in  the  diadem  of  England's 
landscape  beauties.  Richmond's  young  genius 
nestled  and  was  nurtured  in  this  island,  where 
the  ocean  lay  all  around  in  its  magnificence, 
and  the  hills  and  valleys,  by  nature  beautiful, 
were  by  the  hand  of  skill  and  culture  convert- 
ed into  an  almost  earthly  paradise.  As  the 
writer  has  traversed  this  ground,  and  stood  in 
its  sacred  places,  he  is  prepared  to  endorse  the 
faithful  transcript  of  natural  beauties  so  vividly 
described  by  the  pastor  of  Brading. 

When  Legh  Richmond's  genius  was  fully 
fledged,  it  took  a  wider  sphere  and  soared  to 
a  loftier  height.  As  the  minister  of  Turvey, 
where  for  a  quarter  of  a  century  he  labored, 
he  achieved  an  influence  which  was  felt  for 
good,  not  only  in  his  own  parochial  sphere, 
but  throughout  the  kingdom,  and  even  far  and 
wide  over  all  Christendom.  We  propose  to 
look  at  him  on  the  more  general  field,  where 
his  peculiar  talents  as  a  popular  preacher  were 
called  into  requisition. 


BEV.  LEGH  KICHMOND.  129 

It  was  something  ae^i  in  his  day  to  find  a 
minister  of  the  Established  church  breaking 
away  from  the  rigid  custom  of  a  cool  and  care- 
ful reading  of  sermons  to  the  free  and  fervid 
extemporaneous  style  of  preaching.  Rich- 
mond began  to  try  his  wings  in  this  way  in 
the  little  church  of  Yaverland,  of  which  he 
had  the  oversight.  His  first  effort  was  a  fail- 
ure ;  but  trying  again,  he  succeeded,  and  ever 
after  he  gave  free  scope  to  his  noble  faculties, 
unfettered  by  even  paper  bonds. 

His  talents  were  well  adapted  to  this  mode 
of  preaching.  He  had  an  easy  fluency,  a  fine 
voice,  and  a  vivid  fancy.  He  seized  upon 
truth  with  a  strong  grasp,  and  held  it  up  in  a 
clear,  convincing  light.  After  his  soul  had 
really  tasted  of  the  water  of  life,  which,  ac- 
cording to  his  own  account,  took  place  subse- 
quent to  his  ordination,  he  seemed  to  live  and 
move  in  an  atmosphere  almost  as  bright  and 
beaming  as  that  in  which  angels  dwell. 

His  preaching  was  in  a  high  degree  scrip- 
tural. It  found  its  impulse  and  its  aliment  in 
the  living  word;  and  so  familiar  had  he  be- 
come with  the  truths  of  the  gospel,  that  every 
sermon  seemed  to  combine  the  essentials  of 
salvation.     Still  his  sermons  were  not  a  mo- 

6* 


130  ELOQUENT  PBEACHEES. 

notonous  chain  of  texts,  but  were  more  like 
the  tissue  of  a  regal  robe,  through  which  run, 
in  graceful  patterns,  the  threads  of  silver  and 
of  gold. 

His  rich  fancy  gave  a  coloring  of  beauty  to 
his  style,  and  made  it  as  attractive  as  it  was 
instructive.  This  faculty,  apart  from  a  deep 
religious  sensibility,  is  of  doubtful  utility  when 
employed  in  the  illustration  of  gospel  truth. 
It  may  run  into  mere  word  pictures,  and  the 
pictures  so  drawn,  while  they  enhance  the 
reputation  of  the  preacher,  may  not  convey 
much  real  benefit  to  the  hearer ;  but  when,  as 
in  this  gase,  the  fancy  is  under  the  control  of 
deep  religious  feeling — when  this  feeling  so 
blends  itself  with  the  picture  as  to  impart  a 
natural  warmth,  it  may  become  a  most  power- 
ful means  of  awakening  the  attention  and  mov- 
ing the  heart. 

That  Mr.  Eichmond  possessed  both  fancy 
and  deep  religious  sensibility,  all  those  who 
were  privileged  to  hear  him  readily  admit. 
Said  one,  and  he  a  minister,  "As  a  public 
speaker  he  possessed  a  felicity  of  idea  and  ex- 
pression peculiar  to  himself.  His  thoughts 
were  natural  and  simple.  They  seemed  to 
flow  without  effort,  and  to  be  the  spontaneous 


EEV.  LEGH  RICHMOND.  131 

production  of  his  mind ;  but  his  rich  imagina- 
tion clothed  them  in  a  form  that  resembled  the 
varied  tints,  the  brilliant  glow,  and  the  har- 
monious coloring  of  the  rainbow.  His  images 
were  frequently  borrowed  from  the  scenes  of 
nature,  which  were  made  to  illustrate  some 
instructive  and  spiritual  truth.  The  lofty 
mountain  and  the  verdant  vale,  the  tranquil 
rivulet,  or  the  broad  expanse  of  the  ocean, 
all  became  tributary,  and  supplied  materials 
to  his  creative  fancy.  He  could  affect  the 
heart  by  touches  the  most  natural  and  by  ap- 
peals the  most  pathetic." 

Speaking  of  his  death,  this  writer  remarks, 
"Thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  who  have 
hung  with  admiration,  affection,  and  interest 
on  his  eloquent  addresses  from  the  pulpit  and 
the  platform  will  unite  in  the  sentiment  that  a 
great  man  has  fallen.  The  sermons  of  Legh 
Richmond  were  characterized  not  only  by  a 
depth  of  piety  and  a  sound  orthodoxy,  but 
likewise  by  the  most  pathetic  and  affectionate 
appeals  to  his  auditors  on  the  subject  of  per- 
sonal religion.  His  addresses  in  behalf  of  re-, 
ligious  societies  were  marked  by  extraordi- 
nary powers  of  description,  by  a  pathos  which 
deeply  interested  and  affected  his  audience, 


132  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

and  by  an  eloquence  peculiar  to  himself,  which 
must  have  been  witnessed  to  be  duly  appreci- 
ated." 

It  was  Mr.  Eichmond's  custom  to  make 
excursions  over  the  kingdom,  preaching  and 
collecting  for  the  benevolent  associations  then 
just  springing  into  existence,  whose  origin  and 
influence  were  closely  connected  with  the 
Christian  genius  of  this  good  man.  The  Brit- 
ish and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  the  Eeligious 
Tract  Society,  the  Society  for  Evangelizing  the 
Jews,  the  Church  Missionary  Society,  and 
other  kindred  institutions  were  organized  in 
his  day,  and  with  his  most  cordial  and  efficient 
cooperation,  while  his  powerful  and  persuasive 
eloquence  did  much  to  give  them  impulse,  and 
to  establish  them  firmly  in  the  hearts  of  his 
countrymen. 

As  the  advocate  of  these  mighty  engines 
of  moral  good,  he  went  forth  to  almost  every 
city  in  the  kingdom ;  by  his  impassioned  elo- 
quence not  only  attracting  thousands  to  listen, 
but  inducing  them  to  become  coworkers  in  the 
good  cause. 

Previous  to  entering  upon  these  discursive 
labors  he  always  procured  a  faithful  curate  to 
attend  to  the  parish  duties  at  Turvey,  in  the 


EEV.  LEGH  KICHMOND.  133 

same  manner  as  he  himself  had  done,  thus 
securing  to  his  flock  their  accustomed  privi- 
leges while  h&  was  gathering  materials  for 
building  the  temple  of  salvation  on  a  world- 
wide basis. 

These  journies  led  him  into  scenes  of  the 
sublime  and  beautiful,  where  his  deep  love  of 
nature  and  his  intensely  poetical  imagination 
found  free  scope  and  gathered  rich  stores  for 
the  future  use  of  the  preacher.  He  was  like 
a  merchantman  seeking  goodly  pearls — filling 
his  cabinet  with  them ;  and  when  the  occasion 
occurred,  he  would  give  them  a  setting  in  some 
beautiful  argument  or  some  pathetic  appeal. 

Writing  from  the  English  lakes,  and  speak- 
ing of  the  effect  of  the  scenery  upon  his  imag- 
ination and  feelings,  he  remarks,  "The  ex- 
quisite beauty  and  sublimity  of  this  country 
almost  makes  a  pen  move  of  itself.  Never 
did  I  pass  so  beautiful  a  clay  as  this  at  the 
lakes.  I  shall  sing  the  praises  of  October  as 
the  loveliest  of  months.  This  morning  at  six 
o'clock  I  was  walking  on  the  banks  of  Winder- 
mere to  catch  a  sunrise.  I  had  every  thing  I 
could  wish,  and  observed  the  progress  of  the 
day  with  delight.  The  mysterious  rolling  of 
the  clouds  across  the  hills  announced  the  first 


134  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

influence  of  the  sun.  Tints  the  most  beauteous 
skirted  the  eastern  clouds,  Those  on  the  west 
caught  them  as  b}T  sympathy.  Various  patches 
of  mountains  soon  gleamed  with  the  reflection 
of  the  yet  unseen  luminary;  and  such  innu- 
merable vicissitudes  of  light  and  shade  and 
close  obscurity  filled  the  scene  as  no  tongue 
can  describe.  The  lake  in  all  its  length  of 
thirteen  miles  lay  beneath  me,  with  its  thirty 
islands.  I  heard  the  early  lowing  of  the  cows, 
the  bleating  of  the  sheep,  the  neighing  of  the 
horse,  the  twittering  of  the. birds,  the  rustling 
of  the  breeze,  the  rippling  of  the  water,  and 
dashing  of  the  oar  in  a  gentle  kind  of  har- 
mony. The  sun  advanced  and  threw  a  blaze 
of  magnificent  lustre  over  this  paradisiacal 
landscape." 

Again,  still  among  the  lakes,  he  writes, 
"This  morning  as  I  stood  on  an  eminence 
looking  down  on  the  exquisitely  lovely  lake  of 
Grasmere,  environed  by  its  amphitheatre  of 
mountains,  a  momentary  shower  produced  a 
rainbow.  It  extended  from  hill  to  hill  over 
the  valley,,  and  seemed  like  a  bridge  for  angels 
to  pass  over  from  one  district  of  paradise  to 
another. 


REV.  LEGH  RICHMOND.  135 

"  '  And  as  they  pass  let  angels  sing 
The  wonders  of  creation's  King ; 
And  while  they  tune  then-  harps  to  praise, 
I  '11  gladly  catch  their  solemn  lays ; 
Unite  with  them  my  feeble  tongue, 
And  give  to  gratitude  my  song.' " 

From  these  extracts  we  gain  some  slight 
impression  of  the  spirit  of  the  man.  His  heart 
was  alive  to  every  thing  fair  and  beautiful. 
Music,  especially  sacred,  was  his  delight.  He 
cultivated  it  as  a  science,  and  enjoyed  it  with 
the  ardor  of  an  enthusiast.  But  his  greatest 
pleasure,  next  to  direct  communion  with  God 
and  his  word,  was  communion  with  God's  glo- 
rious works.  He  viewed  them  not  merely  with 
the  eye  of  a  poet,  but  with  the  gratitude  of  a 
Christian.  The  poetical  idea  was  intensified 
by  the  devotional ;  and  so,  when  he  came  to 
speak  on  the  great  themes  of  redemption,  the 
sanctified  imagery,  gathered  from  the  varied 
beauties  of  external  nature,  came  gracefully 
forward  to  give  force  and  attractiveness  to  his 
discourses.  They  glowed  with  the  twofold 
light  of  a  blended  harmony  between  what 
nature  imparts  and  what  the  Scriptures  reveal. 

He  was  ever  in  search  of  some  new  and 
rare  prospect,  and  would  be  found  sometimes 


136  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

by  the  deep  sea,  gazing  on  its  expanse,  or  on 
the  mountain  top,  looking  over  the  intervening 
landscape,  or  climbing  some  high  tower,  and 
with  glass  in  hand,  gathering  in  his  eye  the 
boundless  amphitheatre  of  beauties. 

An  interesting  incident  occurred  to  Mr. 
Richmond  on  one  of  these  occasions.  He  had 
ascended  a  lofty  tower  in  the  dockyard  at 
Portsmouth,  and  from  its  summit  was  viewing 
through  a  telescope  the  surrounding  objects, 
when  his  imperial  majesty  the  Emperor  Alex- 
ander of  Russia  and  suite  unexpectedly  enter- 
ed. Mr.  Richmond  offered  to  withdraw,  but 
the  emperor  would  not  consent,  saying,  "Per- 
haps, sir,  you  are  acquainted  with  the  points  of 
view  before  us."  Mr.  Richmond  assured  him 
he  well  knew  every  spot  in  the  neighborhood, 
and  drawing  out  his  telescope,  directed  the 
eye  of  the  emperor  to  the  different  objects 
worthy  of  notice.  After  a  long  and  interest- 
ing conversation  with  his  majest}7-,  Mr.  Rich- 
mond took  occasion  to  thank  him  for  the  inter- 
est he  had  taken  in  the  Bible  cause  in  Russia, 
when  the  emperor  obligingly  remarked,  "Sir, 
my  thanks  are  rather  due  to  your  country, 
and  the  friends  of  the  cause ;  for  had  it  not 
been  for  your  example,  we  should  have  had  no 


BEV.  LEGH  KICHMOND.  137 

Bible  Society  in  Russia."  Mr.  Richmond, 
having  subsequently  sent  a  copy  of  his  "An- 
nals of  the  Poor  "  to  the  emperor,  received  a 
very  kind  note  of  recognition,  accompanied  by 
the  present  of  a  diamond  ring. 

Like  most  extemporaneous  preachers,  Legh 
Richmond  has  left  behind  him  but  few  speci- 
mens— only  three,  it  is  said — of  his  eloquence 
in  the  form  of  printed  sermons ;  and  the  prin- 
cipal one  of  these,  preached  in  1809  before  the 
Church  Missionary  Society,  though  excellent 
in  spirit,  and  forcible  in  its  closing  appeals, 
can,  we  think,  scarcely  represent  his  power  as 
a  pulpit  orator. 

It  was  when  inspired  by  his  great  theme 
in  presence  of  a  large  and  attentive  audience 
that  his  genius  as  a  preacher  broke  forth  upon 
his  admiring  listeners.  Then  the  eye  kindled 
and  the  voice  became  an  expressive  vehicle  of 
thought.  The  soul  on  fire  sent  its  burning 
fervor  into  the  intellect,  setting  the  imagina- 
tion in  a  glow,  and  thence  into  the  very  words ; 
and  so  kindling  from  speaker  to  hearer,  the 
whole  audience-chamber  became  radiant  with 
the  excitement. 

A  sermon  delivered  under  such  circum- 
stances cannot  be  copied  out  in  the  retirement 


138  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

of  the  closet,  nor  can  it  be  caught  and  convey- 
ed to  the  public  eye  by  the  efforts  of  the  ste- 
nographer. True  eloquence  can  no  more  be 
thus  rendered  than  can  the  lightning  flash  be 
caught,  or  the  thunder  peals  reverberated. 
The  truth  is,  the  power  of  a  truly  eloquent 
preacher,  such  as  Legh  Kichmond  was,  lies  in 
many  accompanying  circumstances,  and  de- 
pends much  more  than  we  are  apt  to  suppose 
on  a  sort  of  inspiration  in  the  speaker,  and  a 
favoring  sympatlry  of  the  audience.  Still  there 
were  more  than  these  in  the  subject  of  our 
sketch.  His  learning,  his  clear  conceptions, 
his  popular  style  of"  reasoning,  his  fine  imagi- 
nation, his  easy  and  fluent  speech,  his  affection- 
ate manner,  his  conceded  purity  of  motives, 
a,ll  conspired  to  place  .him  among  the  most 
eloquent  and  efficient  clergymen.of  the  church 
of  England. 


DE.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT.  139 


REV.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT,  D.D. 

Among  the  luminaries  of  a  past  genera- 
tion, Dr.  Dwight  shines  as  a  star  of  the  first 
magnitude.  Like  most  of  our  distinguished 
divines,  his  early  ministry  was  passed  in  com- 
parative obscurity.  Fitted  by  nature  and  by 
intellectual  culture  for  any  position  however 
exalted,  he  awaited  the  indications  of  Provi- 
dence, content  in  the  lesser,  until  summoned 
to  the  greater  circle  of  influence.  But  such  a 
man  can  never  be  hid.  Even  when  occupying 
the  small  parish  of  Greenfield  hill,  and  obliged 
to  supplement  a  meagre  salary  by  teaching  an 
academy,  he  was  a  centre  of  attraction  to  hun- 
dreds who  sought  his  acquaintance  and  en- 
joyed his  hospitality. 

When  the  presidency  of  Yale  college  be- 
came vacant  in  1795,  he  was  chosen  to  fill  the 
responsible  station.  Here  he  preached  and 
toiled  and  taught,  until  his  influence,  con- 
stantly augmenting,  was  felt  to  the  very  ex- 
tremities of  the  body  politic.  Yale  college 
owes  a  renewed  life  to  Dr.  Dwight,  who  found 
her  in  "the  spirit  of  heaviness,"  and  left  her 
clothed  in  "  the  garments  of  praise." 


140  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

Such  an  institution,  gathering  its  pupils 
from  every  state  and  territory,  and  then  pour- 
ing back  upon  the  several  communities  whence 
they  came  a  host  of  young  men,  moulded  and 
modelled  principally  under  his  powerful  intel- 
lect, was,  in  that  day  especially,  a  most  impor- 
tant fountain  of  blessings  both  in  church  and 
state.  It  would  hardly  be  deemed  an  exag- 
gerated statement,  were  we  to  affirm  that  no 
man  in  the  country  then  living  exerted  a  wider 
or  more  salutary  influence  than  the  president 
of  this  institution. 

Dr.  Dwight  was  a  scion  from  a  noble  stock, 
being  grandson  of  the  celebrated  President 
Edwards.  In  person  he  was  a  most  impressive 
figure.  A  stalwart  form,  with  that  rounded 
perfection  which  is  suggestive  neither  of  gross- 
ness  nor  of  austerity ;  with  a  head  that  might, 
without  flattery,  be  termed  majestic  ;  a  face 
expressive  of  calm  dignity,  under  which  could 
be  discerned  an  imprisoned  humor  and  poetic 
fervor,  and  these  traits  being  kept  under  re- 
straint by  the  control  of  the  higher  faculties ; 
with  manners  graceful  and  attractive  :  such  is 
a  not  overdrawn  likeness  of  the  outward  and 
visible  man.  His  portrait  is  one  on  which  the 
eye  rests  with  almost  perfect  satisfaction.    Ev- 


DR.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT.  141 

ery  thing  is  in  harmony.  The  expression  is 
that  of  one  not  only  of  high  mental  culture,  but 
of  great  moral  worth.  There  is  dignity  with- 
out haughtiness,  and  condescension  without 
servility. 

We  have  heard  it  said,  that  when  Dr.  Ma- 
son, Dr.  Stanhope  Smith,  and  Dr.  Dwight  met 
in  a  social  circle  at  Princefon,  New  Jersey,  the 
company  fell  into  a  side  discussion  on  the  com- 
parative merits  of  these  worthy  men.  Dr. 
Smith  was  acknowledged  superior  in  some 
traits,  Dr.  Mason  in  others  ;  but  it  was  the 
unanimous  verdict  that  a  combination  of  all 
the  great  and  attractive  qualities  met  pecul- 
iarly in  Dr.  Dwight. 

He  usually  dressed  in  a  plain  style.  His 
coat,  of  the  finest  black  cloth,  was  cut  after  the 
Franklinian  or  Quaker  pattern ;  and  this  style, 
so  suited  to  his  person  and  his  profession,  he 
never  altered,  whatever  might  be  the  fashion 
of  the  day.  What  was  said  of  Burke,  might 
with  equal  truth  be  said  of  him  :  that  any 
stranger,  stopping  with  him  under  a  shed  in  a 
rain-storm,  would  at  once  have  recognized  his 
greatness  of  character. 

But  we  are  less  interested  in  the  outer  than 
the  inner  man.     The  temple  is  not  so  attract- 


142  ELOQUENT  PBEACHEES. 

ive  as  the  glory  which  illuminates  it.  We 
have  to  admit,  however,  that  when  there  is  a 
correspondence  between  the  two,  we  are  none 
the  less  impressed  with  the  "tout  ensemble." 

As  a  philosopher,  using  the  term  to  cover 
a  wide  scope  of  research,  he  had  few  equals, 
and  in  this  country  perhaps  no  superior.  The 
book  of  nature  he  explored,  and  the  word  of 
God  was  his  habitual  study.  To  him  each  of 
these  great  volumes  was  a  divine  revelation, 
and  by  their  conjoined  effulgence  they  threw 
light  on  the  mysteries  of  our  being. 

Dr.  Dwight  was  a  most  eloquent  lecturer 
on  the  subtle  influences  of  nature,  going  into 
all  the  finer  tracery  of  G-od's  handiwork.  Com- 
bining scientific  skill  with  a  sanctified  imagi- 
nation, he  would,  it  is  said,  out  of  a  mere  leaf 
or  flower  raise  a  sublime  discourse  on  the  di- 
vine wisdom  and  goodness.  His  mind  could 
grasp  the  vast  relations  of  science  to  the  phys- 
ical and  the  moral  world,  while  it  was  equally 
at  home  in  the  minuter  and  more  common  ex- 
igencies of  practical  life. 

In  the  lecture-room,  where  perhaps  more 
than  anywhere  else  he  gave  full  scope  to  his 
genius,  the  students,  who  had  looked  forward 
with  almost  impatient  longings   to   the   time 


DR.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT.  143 

when  they  should  come  under  his  teachings, 
sat  in  mute  astonishment  at  the  depth  of  his 
learning,  the  nights  of  his  imagination,  the 
strength  of  his  language,  and  the  clear  beam- 
ing conclusions  of  his  reasoning.  Hours  seem- 
ed but  moments.  The  driest  subjects  took  life 
under  his  inspiring  eloquence,  and  the  tolling 
bell  too  soon  announced  the  necessity  for  a, 
pause. 

What  he  was  in  the  lecture-room  he  was 
also  in  the  pulpit.  His  printed  discourses  are 
a  treasure  in  any  clergyman's  library.  They 
are  read  and  admired  as  specimens  of  clear 
reasoning,  sound  doctrine,  and  an  elevated 
style.  They  are,  in  general,  not  too  deep  for 
the  comprehension  of  the  unlearned,  while 
some  of  them  task  the  powers  of  the  most 
erudite.  They  are  doctrinal  and  practical. 
In  the  former,  a  truth  is  stated,  then  analyzed, 
then  illustrated,  then  brought  home  to  the  con- 
victions. In  the  latter,  every  department  of 
moral  responsibility  is  explored,  every  Chris- 
tian duty  inculcated,  and  every  incentive  to 
holy  obedience  urged.  The  divine  law  is  dis- 
cussed in  its  bearings  on  practical  life,  or  with 
a  view  to  convict  the  conscience,  or  to  lead, 
by  a  sort  of  scholastic  discipline,  to  the  cross 


144  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

of  Christ.  But  when  the  great  themes  of  re- 
demption are  under  consideration,  Oh  how  his 
soul  rises  and  soars  in  an  exultant,  eagle  flight! 
Majesty  of  thought  is  combined  with  simplicity 
of  diction,  and  the  fervor  of  the  Christian  is 
mingled  with  the  reasonings  of  the  philosopher. 

These  discourses  have  become  classic 
among  the  circle  of  studious  minds.  The  style 
is  characterized  by  great  force  in  the  use  of 
language,  and  great  beauty  in  the  pertinency 
and  variety  of  illustration.  It  has  a  harmo- 
nious ring — the  result,  not  so  much  of  skill  in 
the  arrangement  of  words,  as  in  the  glowing 
impetuosity  of  the  thought  itself,  which  swells 
out  in  appropriate  euphony  like  the  clear  peals 
of  an  organ. 

We  give  an  example,  cited  at  random  from 
his  first  volume.  It  is  a  few  closing  sentences 
from  a  sermon  on  the  temptation  of  Satan:  "In 
the  first  temptation  we  see  the  doctrine  strong- 
ly illustrated.  Here  no  prayer  ascended  for 
aid.  Here  therefore  no  aid  was  given  ;  and 
here,  left  to  themselves,  the  miserable  victims 
were  of  course  destroyed.  Let  us  then  learn 
wisdom  from  their  example  and  their  end.  Let 
us  avoid  the  one,  that  we  may  escape  the  other. 
For  protection  from  tempters  and  temptations, 


DR.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT.  145 

both  within  us  and  without  us,  let  our  prayers 
unceasingly  rise  with  fervent  repetition :  espe- 
cially when  the  serpent  approaches,  when  the 
charm  is  about  to  begin,  and  when  his  mouth 
is  ready  to  open  and  swallow  us  up,  let  our 
cries  for  help  ascend  to  heaven  that  He  who  is 
swift  to  hear,  and  always  prepared  to  pity  and 
relieve,  may  mercifully  extend  his  arm  and 
snatch  us  from  the  jaws  of  destruction." 

It  was  not  until  the  latter  part  of  his  min- 
istry that  Dr.  Dwight  wrote  out  his  sermons. 
From  his  early  manhood  he  had  been  compel- 
led by  impaired  vision  to  preach  extempora- 
neously. His  rapid  concentration  of  thought — 
the  result  of  rigid  intellectual  discipline — gave 
him  such  power  over  his  subject,  that  the  ser- 
mon had  all  the  exactness  of  a  studied  effort, 
and  all  the  ardor  of  an  impromptu  discourse. 

"When  unconfined  by  notes,"  says  one, 
"the  whole  field  of  thought  was  before  him. 
Into  that  field  he  entered,  conscious  where  the 
subject  lay  and  by  what  metes  and  bounds  it 
was  limited.  Within  these  limits  his  powers 
had  full  scope,  his  imagination  left  to  range  at 
will,  his  feelings  were  kindled,  and  his  mind 
became  in  the  highest  degree  creative.  Its 
conceptions  were  instantaneous,  its    thoughts 

Eloquent  Preachers.  7 


146  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

were  new  and  striking,  its  deductions  clear 
and  irresistible,  and  its  images  exact  repre- 
sentations of  what  his  eye  saw,  living,  speak- 
ing, and  acting.  When  we  add  that  these 
were  accompanied  by  the  utmost  fluency  and 
force  of  language,  a  piercing  ey.e,  a  counte- 
nance deeply  marked  with  intellect,  a  strong 
emphasis,  a  voice  singular  for  its  compass  and 
melody,  an  enunciation  remarkably  clear  and 
distinct,  a  person  dignified  and  commanding, 
and  gestures  graceful  and  happy,  we  need  not 
inform  the  reader  that  his  pulpit  efforts  at  this 
period  possessed  every  characteristic  of  ani- 
mated and  powerful  eloquence." 

To  some  his  life-long  calamity — weakness 
of  eyes — might  seem  a  very  serious  obstruc- 
tion to  the  acquisition,  if  not  the  impartation 
of  knowledge.  But  where  there  exists  genius 
such  as  he  possessed,  an  impediment  like  this 
only  serves  to  stimulate  the  mind  to  higher 
efforts,  and  render  the  triumph  not  only  cer- 
tain but  signal.  Evidently  in  his  case  it  ap- 
peared to  operate  as  a  stimulus  to  the  intel- 
lectual faculties ;  so  that  what  others  obtained 
by  their  own  reading,  he  acquired  more  thor- 
oughly perhaps  through  the  eyes  of  an  aman- 
uensis.    By  long  habit  and  continued  efforts, 


DE.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT.  147 

his  power  to  dictate  also  became  astonishing 
and  almost  incomprehensible.  He  could  keep 
his  amanuensis  hard  at  work  while  he  carried 
on  at  the  same  time  a  conversation  with  friends 
or  with  his  family.  Without  embarrassment 
or  disturbance  on  his  part,  as  the  copyist  end- 
ed one  sentence,  he  was  supplied  with  another 
as  pertinent  and  connected  as  if  his  own  pen 
had  been  at  work  in  the  solitude  of  his  closet. 
It  was  in  this  way  that  his  sermons,  constitut- 
ing his  body  of  divinity  now  so  extensively 
read  and  admired,  were  composed. 

One  feature  in  the  pulpit  efforts  of  this 
great  and  good  man  ought  not  to  be  omitted, 
which,  considering  his  position  and  his  high 
literary  standing,  might  not  have  been  expect- 
ed ;  namely,  Ms  intense  desire  to  save  the  souls 
of  his  hearers.  In  all  his  preaching  there  was 
the  utter  absence  of  any  thing  like  self-com- 
placency or  self-seeking.  He  seems  to  have 
framed  every  sermon  with  the  desire  to  con- 
vince the  errorist,  to  comfort  the  Christian,  or 
to  rouse  the  impenitent  to  a  sense  of  his  guilt 
and  clanger.  This  is  the  impression  made  upon 
those  who  heard,  and  the  same  may  be  said 
of  those  who  read  his  sermons.  There  is  no 
straining  after  popular  effect,  no  bait  thrown 


148  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

out  for  popular  applause.  His  great  soul 
would  have  disdained  to  use  his  high  position 
as  a  pedestal  for  personal  vanit}r. 

"A  characteristic  of  his  preaching,"  says 
his  biographer,  "was  a  constant  regard  to 
practical  effect.  Even  the  sermons  which  com- 
pose these  volumes,  will  be  found  in  their  ap- 
plication to  have  this,  discriminating  charac- 
ter. It  was  impossible  for  him  to  enter  the 
desk  but  as  the  herald  of  reconciliation.  He 
could  not  fail  to  discover  his  affecting  sense  of 
the  greatness  of  the  Being  who  sent  him,  or  of 
the  infinite  importance  of  the  message  which 
he  brought.  And  his  most  obvious  purpose 
was  to  accomplish  the  salvation  of  those  to 
whom  it  was  delivered."  A  single  sermon 
from  the  text,  "The  harvest  is  passed,"  the 
summer  is  ended,  and  we  are  not  saved,"  was 
accompanied  by  the  special  and  powerful  influ- 
ence of  the  Holy  Spirit,  resulting  in  a  revival 
among  the  students,  and  the  ingathering  of 
nearly  half  of  them  to  the  college  church. 

"In  the  performance  of  the  other  exercises 
of  public  worship,"  says  one  who  knew  him, 
"he  greatly  excelled.  His  manner  of  reading 
the  Scriptures  was  peculiarly  happy  and  im- 
pressive.    In  prayer,  as  it  regarded  subjects, 


DR.  TIMOTHY  DWIGHT.  149 

sentiment,  and  language,  all  was  appropriate. 
Free  from  form,  from  tiresome  repetition,  and 
from  lukewarmness,  and  under  the  influence  of 
the  deepest  abasement  and  prostration  of  soul, 
his  heart  appeared  to  be  melted  and  his  lips  to 
be  touched  as  with  a  live  coal  from  off  the  altar." 
It  would  be  a  task  not  more  agreeable  to 
the  writer  than  gratifying  to  the  reader,  to 
follow  this  noble  scholar  and  divine  into  the 
various  walks  of  social  and  literary  life,  and 
exhibit  those  attractive  features  which  shone 
out  so  gracefully  under  all  these  circumstances. 
He  was  not  one  of  those  great  men  who  loom 
up  in  the  distance,  but  are  of  diminished  pro- 
portions when  near.  Whatever  might  have 
been  the  respect  felt  for  him  as  viewed  through 
his  public  services  or  his  high  position,  that 
reverence  would  not  have  disappeared,  but 
would  have  been  deepened  by  a  more  intimate 
personal  communion.  "Like  Johnson,"  quot- 
ing the  words  of  another,  "he  shone  in  no 
place  with  more  distinguished  splendor  than 
in  the  circle  of  the  friends  he  loved,  when  the 
glow  of  animation  lighted  up  his  countenance, 
and  a  perpetual  stream  of  knowledge  and  wis- 
dom flowed  from  his  lips.  Interesting  narra- 
tion, vivid  description,  and  sallies  of  humor, 


150  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

anecdotes  of  the  just,  the  good,  the  generous, 
and  the  brave,  these  all  were  blended  in  fine 
proportions  to  form  the  bright  and  varied  tis- 
sue of  his  discourse." 

But  as  the  object  of  this  sketch  is  to  bring 
into  view  more  particularly  his  preaching  qual- 
ities, and  to  show  in  what  respect  he  excelled 
as  a  pulpit  orator,  we  would  leave  to  others 
the  grateful  task  of  delineating  more  fully  the 
scholar,  the  gentleman,  and  the  friend. 

New  England  boasts  of  many  great  names 
both  in  church  and  state.  She  has  been  well 
represented  at  the  bar,  in  the  senate,  and  in 
the  pulpit;  but  we  doubt  if  the  emblazoned 
list  contains  any  one  name  that  should  stand 
higher  in  the  catalogue.  Fisher  Ames  may 
have  rivalled  him  in  burning  eloquence,  Dan- 
iel Webster  in  the  heavy  calibre  of  his  mental 
armament,  and  the  younger  Adams  in  the 
memory  of  historical  events ;  but  in  Dr. 
Dwight  there  was  a  combination  of  great  qual- 
ities, with  no  personal  weaknesses  to  obscure 
their  beauty.  He  was,  in  one  sense — and 
that  the  best  that  we  are  allowed  to  attribute 
to  fallen  humanity — a  perfect  man.  We  say 
it  to  the  honor  of  that  Being  who  made  him 
what  he  was.     To  God  be  all  the  glory. 


,wT 


REV.  JONATHAN  EDWARDS.  151 


REV.  JONATHAN  EDWARDS. 

The  reputation  of  Edwards  rests  princi- 
pally on  his  metaphysical  and  theological  writ- 
ings. The  philosopher  is  more  prominent  than 
the  preacher.  The  treatise  on  the  will  is  much 
oftener  referred  to  than  the  sermon  at  Enfield, 
where  the  audience  cried  aloud  for  mercy. 
We  are  also  so  far  removed  from  the  scenes 
and  circumstances  wherein  this  great  divine 
acted,  that  it  is  difficult  to  form  a  just  impres- 
sion of  the  influence  which  he  then  exerted,  or 
of  the  prominent  characteristics  of  his  preach- 
ing. But  well  do  we  know  that  no  man  who 
lived  in  that  great  revival  period,  as  it  may  be 
called,  exerted  a  wider  or  more  salutary  influ- 
ence. 

From  boyhood,  Edwards  was  a  close  stu- 
dent. When  others  of  his  age  were  interested 
in  such  books  as  Robinson  Crusoe,  he  was  ab- 
sorbed in  Locke's  Treatise  on  the  Understand- 
ing. He  entered  college  at  twelve,  graduated 
before  he  was  seventeen,  and  became  tutor  at 
twenty-one — proofs  not  only  of  precocity,  but 
of  proficiency. 


152  ELOQUENT   PREACHERS. 

His  tendency  was  to  abstract  studies :  when 
he  investigated,  he  went  to  the  bottom ;  and 
when  he  published  his  views,  he  had  exhausted 
the  subject,  and  left  nothing  to  be  said  in  reply. 
While  others  busied  themselves  about  the  su- 
perstructure, he  was  examining  and  strength- 
ening the  foundations.  The  church  of  God 
owes  him  a  debt  of  gratitude  for  the  impreg- 
nable fortress  which  he  has  built  around  her 
most  precious  doctrines,  defying  the  assaults  of 
both  her  open  and  her  more  subtle  adversaries. 

As  a  pulpit  orator,  Edwards  perhaps  could 
not  with  truth  be  placed  in  the  front  rank. 
And  yet  this  depends  very  much  on  what  is 
understood  by  sacred  eloquence.  If  it  mean 
full,  powerful,  and  varied  intonation  of  voice ; 
if  it  include  necessarily  a  great  deal  of  action 
and  of  graceful  gesture ;  if  it  require  a  soaring 
fancy  and  an  impetuous  utterance,  then  we  are 
obliged  to  deny  his  claim  to  the  character  of 
an  eloquent  divine.  He  had  neither  of  these 
characteristics. 

His  constitution  was  so  delicate,  that  it  was 
by  much  care  as  to  diet  and  exercise  that  he 
pursued  his  studies  or  performed  the  public 
services  of  the  sanctuary.  His  voice,  as  to 
volume  and  force,  was  feeble.     He  made  few 


EEV.  JONATHAN  EDWAEDS.  153 

gestures,   and  sometimes   scarcely  raised  his 
eyes  from  the  manuscript 

But  notwithstanding  these  drawbacks,  he 
was  a  powerful  preacher,  so  far  as  power  is 
illustrated  by  efficiency.  In  his  day,  the  idea 
of  a  sermon  was  very  different  from  what  it  is 
in  ours.  The  audiences  were  more  generally 
trained  to  severe  thought;  and  ordinary  con- 
gregations listened  to  the  discourse  less  as  a 
matter  of  temporary  excitement  and  more  as 
a  lesson  of  permanent  instruction.  If  the  ser- 
mon was  a  discussion  of  some  doctrinal  point, 
with  close  logical  reasoning,  they  braced  them- 
selves up  with  greater  intensity  of  thought, 
in  order  to  understand  it.  Accordingly  the 
preacher,  adapting  his  style  and  manner  to  the 
taste  and  character  of  his  audience,  often  gave 
them  "strong  meat"  as  they  were  "able  to 
bear  it."  He  gave  them  a  view  of  the  massive 
foundations  of  their  faith.  He  took  them  be- 
hind the  veil,  where  the  simple  stern  attri- 
butes of  truth  had  sway.  He  preached  of 
God — his  sovereignty,  his  justice,  his  holiness, 
as  revealed  in  his  law  and  illustrated  in  his 
providence.  He  spoke  of  these  great  truths, 
not  in  the  tinselled  rhetoric  of  our  times,  but  in 

the  strong,  majestic,  unpolished  Saxon. 

7* 


154  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

His  only  care  as  to  style  was,  to  give  a 
clear  conception  of  the  thought,  and  to  express 
it  in  the  most  forcible  terms.  His  writings 
are  not  read  with  a  view  to  the  smoothness  of 
his  diction,  but  rather  to  the  acquisition  of  his 
ideas.  Who  would  be  so  presumptuous  as  to 
undertake  to  modernize  Edwards'  style,  or  to 
attempt  to  polish  the  rough  granite  walls  of 
truth  which  he  has  erected  ? 

And  yet  it  must  not  be  supposed  that  no 
beauties  are  to  be  found  in  his  writings  save 
those  of  simple  truth  and  solid  reasoning. 
Was  Edwards  destitute  of  the  imaginative  fac- 
ulty ?  Were  there  no  folded  wings  about  this 
strong  angel  capable  of  soaring?  Was  there 
no  eagle  eye  looking  wistfully  towards  the  sun? 
Eead  his  sermon  on  ' '  the  Excellency  of  Christ," 
or  that  on  "the  Sinner  in  the  Hands  of  an 
angry  Grod,"  and  then  say  if  the  pen  that  por- 
trays the  glory  of  Immanuel,  or,  dipped  in  the 
days  colors  of  retribution,  describes  the  doom 
of  the  wicked,  be  not  as  powerful  for  vivid 
description  as  before  it  had  been  for  logical 
exactness. 

His  descriptive  sermons  partake,  however, 
more  of  the  grand  than  of  the  beautiful.  He 
is  more  like  Ezekiel  amid  the  stormy  symbols 


EEV.  JONATHAN  EDWARDS.  155 

of  wrath,  than  like  Isaiah  tuning  his  harp  to 
evangelical  strains.  With  Edwards,  mount 
Sinai  is  altogether  in  smoke  and  fire,  and  the 
footsteps  of  Jehovah  are  heard  in  the  tramp 
of  its  thunders.  He  seems  calculated,  by  the 
peculiar  attributes  of  his  genius,  to  echo  in  ad- 
vance "the  voice  of  the  archangel  and  the 
trump  of  God."  How  terrible  must  have  been 
that  sermon  on  the  doom  of  sinners,  delivered 
in  a  revival  at  Enfield,  when  from  solemnity 
the  feelings  of  the  audience  deepened  at  length 
into  an  insupportable  agony,  and  the  cry  burst 
forth,  "What  must  we  do  to  be  saved?" 

It  will  not  do  to  deny  to  such  a  man  a 
claim  to  sacred  eloquence.  He  may  not  pos- 
sess the  charm  of  a  graceful  delivery,  nor  the 
music  of  a  well-modulated  voice,  nor  the  skill 
of  a  practical  rhetorician  ;  but  he  has  power — 
a  power  that  somehow  arrests  the  attention, 
holds  it,  deepens  it,  until  the  very  gates  of 
heaven  seem  opening,  and  the  caverns  of  hell 
yawning  before  the  eyes  of  his  hearers. 

Wherein  lay  this  power  ?  We  must  search 
for  it  beyond  the  style,  beyond  the  manner,  for 
in  neither  does  it  seem  to  lie.  We  must  trace  it 
in  the  spirit  of  the  preacher  ;  in  the  soul  that, 
like  Moses,  had  been  face  to  face  with  God. 


156  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

We  all  know  from  actual  experience  the 
difference  between  words  spoken  from  real  and 
deep  feeling,  and  those  which  are  formal  or 
merely  professional.  The  latter  may  be  more 
in  accordance  with  the  rules  of  the  rhetorician, 
and  we  may  not  be  able  to  discover  a  flaw  in 
language  or  in  elocution  ;  but  the  well-spoken 
sentences  fail  to  touch  the  heart,  to  disturb  the 
conscience,  or  to  rouse  to  energetic  action.  It 
is  all  artificial  work.  It  is  a  palace  of  ice  glit- 
tering in  the  sun.  Such  sermons  may  be  called 
great,  but  they  lack  the  very  soul  of  eloquence. 
On  the  other  hand,  where  the  preacher  has  his 
own  heart  imbued  with  the  sentiments  which 
he  aims  to  transfuse  into  the  souls  of  others, 
and  when,  coining  from  secret  communion  with 
God — where,  like  the  prophets  of  old,  he  has 
been  led  into  visions  of  the  awful  future — he 
speaks  in  God's  name  the  great  and  solemn 
message  entrusted  to  him,  though  the  art  of 
the  orator  may  be  absent,  the  great  end  of 
sacred  eloquence,  conviction,  is  accomplished. 

In  saying  this,  as  illustrative  of  all  the 
effect  of  Edwards'  preaching,  we  would  not  be 
understood  as  attributing  to  man  what  prop- 
erly belongs  to  the  Spirit  of  God.  God  gave 
to  Edwards  not  only  a  great  mind,  but  a  great 


REV.  JONATHAN  EDWARDS.  157 

soul ;  not  only  intellect,  but  deep  feeling ;  not 
only  the  power  to  investigate  divine  truth,  but 
a  perception  of  its  solemn  bearings  on  the  des- 
tiny of  man.  It  was  a  baptism  from  heaven, 
by  waters  taken  from  the  river  of  life,  bathing 
all  his  faculties  in  a  renovating  and  refreshing 
influence. 

Herein  lay  the  power  of  the  preacher.  It 
was  a  power  not  of  itself  able  to  reach  the 
great  end  of  preaching,  but  a  power  more  com- 
monly sanctified  to  its  attainment.  It  was  this 
heaven-inspired  feeling  which,  vitalizing  the 
truths  of  God's  word  as  enunciated  on  the  occa- 
sion alluded  to  at  Enfield,  sent  the  message 
home  to  the  hearts  and  consciences  of  his  hear- 
ers, while  the  Spirit  of  God  made  those  truths 
"sharper  than  a  two-edged  sword." 

Edwards  lived  in  an  age  of  stirring  events. 
The  great  revival,  beginning  in  England  and 
lighting  up  at  length  this  Western  hemisphere, 
spread  like  an  atmosphere  over  the  churches, 
waking  and  warming  into  life  the  long  slum- 
bering energies  of  God's  people.  In  the  midst 
of  it  all  was  seen  Whitefield,  standing  like  an 
angel  in  the  sun. 

Who  that  reads  the  history  of  those  times, 
but  must  be  impressed  with  the  newly  com- 


158  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

municatecl  power-  of  G-od  ?  The  churches  were 
visited  as  with  pentecostal  fire.  It  filled  the 
whole  land.  Edwards  caught  the  flame.  Such 
a  soul  as  his  could  not  fail  to  sympathize  in 
this  work  of  the  Spirit.  His  sermons  became 
like  the  trumpet-tonguecl  angel,  waxing  louder 
and  louder.  Truth  fell  with  startling  emphasis 
upon  ears  hitherto  dull  of  hearing,  and  upon 
hearts  hard  as  adamant.  Thousands  felt  the 
quickening  power. 

After  a  time  the  spirit  of  true  piety  be- 
gan to  be  less  distinguishable,  and  a  spirit 
of  fanaticism  began  to  develop  itself.  Every 
good  thing  is  liable  to  perversion.  Nay,  the 
very  best  thing  that  G-od  ever  gave  or  man 
received  may  be  so  perverted  or  abused  as  to 
produce  a  moral  monstrosity.  This  is  not  the 
product  of  true  piety,  but  of  its  counterfeit. 
It  is  evidence  that  humanity  is  weak  as  well 
as  wicked;  and  so  religion  has  to  suffer  for 
errors  traceable  only  to  the  absence  of  her 
enlightening  power. 

Edwards  saw  the  coming  storm,  and  pre- 
pared for  it.  He  saw  excitable  men  and  min- 
isters embracing  views  derogatory  to  truth, 
and  calculated  fatally  to  mislead  the  soul. 
Not  only  did  he  aim  by  his  preaching  to  coun- 


EEV.  JONATHAN  EDWARDS.  159 

teract  it,  but  he  prepared  and  published  a 
treatise  on  the  Religious  Affections,  which  he 
intended  should  serve  as  a  test  of  true  piety, 
and  so  unveil,  and  if  possible  arrest  the  growth 
of  fanaticism. 

A  more  discriminating  work  on  the  inward 
experience  of  piety  has  never  been  produced. 
It  would  seem  as  if  every  man  who  reads  it 
must  decide  without  further  proof  his  position 
and  his  destiny. 

It  would  be  aside  from  the  object  of  this 
sketch  to  enter  upon  a  discussion  as  to  the 
merits  of  his  controversial  writings.  They  are 
numerous,  and  they  take  in  subjects  of  vital 
importance.  He  is  fair  in  his  statements,  clear 
in  his  reasoning,  and  carries  his  readers  to 
conclusions  which  some  of  them  might  not  per- 
haps relish,  but  which  it  would  be  very  diffi- 
cult to  refute.  His  controversial  and  meta- 
physical works  are  considered  by  the  best 
judges  as  among  the  most  gigantic  efforts  of 
the  human  mind.  His  fame  in  this  department 
is  as  great  in  Europe  as  it  is  in  America. 

Dr.  Chalmers,  writing  to  a  friend  in  this 
country,  says  of  Edwards,  "I  have  long  es- 
teemed him  as  the  greatest  of  theologians; 
combining,  in  a  degree  that  is  craite  unexam- 


160  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

pled,  the  profoundly  intellectual  with  the  devot- 
edly spiritual  and  sacred,  and  realizing  in  his 
own  person  a  most  rare  yet  most  beautifu] 
harmony  between  the  simplicity  of  the  Chris- 
tian pastor  on  the  one  hand,  and  on  the  other 
all  the  strength  and  prowess  of  a  giant  in  phi- 
losophy ;  so  as  at  once  to  minister  from  Sab- 
bath to  Sabbath,  and  with  the  most  blessed 
effect  to  the  hearers  of  his  plain  congregation, 
and  yet  in  the  high  field  of  authorship  to  have 
traversed  in  a  way  that  none  had  ever  done 
before  him  the  most  inaccessible  places,  and 
achieved  such  a  mastery  as  had  never  till  his 
time  been  realized  over  the  most  arduous  diffi- 
culties of  our  science." 

It  must  be  confessed  that,  considering  the 
space  which  President  Edwards  occupied  as  a 
Christian  philosopher  and  eminent  divine,  there 
has  come  down  to  us  a  comparative  meagre 
amount  of  reliable  matter  illustrative  of  his 
peculiarities  as  a  preacher.  From  his  printed 
sermons  we  cannot,  in  this  respect,  gather  a 
very  satisfactory  impression.  They  are  full 
of  thought,  with  flashes  of  eloquence,  and  clos- 
ing generally  with  a  solemn  and  searching  ap- 
plication. They  gleam  with  pertinent  quota- 
tions from  the  Scriptures,  and  show  a  deep 


BEV.  JONATHAN  EDWAEDS.  161 

and  thorough  knowledge  of  the  springs  of  hu- 
man action.  Yet  after  all  we  long  to  know 
more  of  the  speaker — his  expression  of  face, 
his  whole  air  and  manner,  coomb'ining  in  the 
secret  charm  which  so  held  his  audience  spell- 
bound. We  are  almost  impatient  with  his 
contemporaries,  that  they  should  not  have 
transmitted  a  fuller  and  more  satisfactory  por- 
trait of  this  great  divine. 

The  nearest  approach  to  the  gratification 
of  this  so  natural  a  longing,  may  be  found  in  a 
paragraph  of  the  short  biographical  sketch  in 
his  first  volume  :  "Viewing  Mr.  Edwards  as  a 
writer  of  sermons,  we  cannot  give  him  the  epi- 
thet eloquent,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the 
term.  We  see  in  him  nothing  of  the  great 
masters  of  eloquence,  except  good  sense,  con- 
clusive reasoning,  and  the  power  of  moving  the 
passions.  Oratorical  pomp,  a  cryptic  method, 
luxurious  descriptions  presented  to  the  imagi- 
nation, and  a  rich  variety  of  rhetorical  figures, 
enter  not  into  his  plan.  But  his  thoughts  are 
well  digested,  and  his  reasoning  conclusive. 
He  produces  considerations  which  not  only 
force  the  assent,  but  also  touch  the  conscience. 
He  urges  divine  authority  by  quoting  and  ex- 
plaining Scripture  in  a  form  calculated  to  rouse 


162  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

the  soul.  He  moves  the  passions  not  by  little 
artifices,  like  the  professed  rhetorician,  but  by 
saying  what  is  much  to  the  purpose  in  a  plain, 
serious,  and  interesting  way ;  and  thus  making 
reason,  conscience,  fear,  and  love  to  be  decid- 
edly in  his  favor.  And  thus  the  passions  are 
moved  in  the  most  profitable  manner;  the 
more  generous  ones  take  the  lead,  and  they 
are  directed  in  the  way  of  practical  utility." 


EEV.  GEOKGE  WHITEFIELD.  163 


REV.  GEORGE  WHITEFIELD, 

"THE  SEEAPHIC  MAN." 

The  name  of  Whitefield  is  stereotyped  on 
the  popular  mind  as  the  representative  of  that 
highest  of  arts,  pulpit  eloquence ;  so  that  to 
say  that  a  preacher  is  as  eloquent  as  White- 
field,  would  be  regarded  as  extravagant  as  to 
say  that  a  senator  was  as  eloquent  as  Demosthe- 
nes. And  yet  strange  is  it,  that  no  biographer 
or  writer,  in  his  day  or  ours,  has  given  a  just 
and  true  portraiture  of  this  unequalled  preach- 
er. We  read  his  printed  sermons,  and  they 
disappoint  us.  We  say  to  ourselves,  These 
are  not  great  sermons,  nor  apparently  eloquent 
ones.  We  wonder  how  it  was  that  their  utter- 
ance, even  by  his  fire-touched  lips,  could  so 
have  entranced  listening  thousands.  But  the 
truth  is,  Whitefield  wrote  these  sermons  on 
his  voyages  across  the  Atlantic,  amid  the  dis- 
comforts of  sea- life,  and  in  the  absence  of 
those  stirring  sympathies  which  were  kindled 
in  the  crowded  audiences  of  Tottenham  Court. 
They  cannot  give  one,  therefore,  a  just  idea 
of  the  preacher.     It  would  be  about  as  ab- 


164  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

surd  to  judge  of  his  eloquence,  by  these  speci- 
mens, as  it  would  to  judge  of  the  spirit  and 
fire  of  a  war-horse  on  the  battle-field  by 
seeing  him  leisurely  walked  over  the  parade- 
ground. 

Of  all  men,  Whitefield  was  the  last  to 
transmit  the  fire  of  his  sermons  through  the 
press.  So  much  did  he  owe  to  physical  tem- 
perament, to  the  volume  and  varied  intona- 
tions of  his  voice,  to  the  "irrepressible  fires  of 
a  soul  all  alive  to  the  grand  and  overpowering- 
visions  of  divine  truth,  to  a  sort  of  inspiration 
kindled  by  the  sight  of  thousands  whose  eyes 
were  ready  to  weep  and  whose  hearts  were 
ready  to  break  the  moment  his  clarion  voice 
rang  on  their  expectant  ears — so  much  did  he 
owe  to  these  circumstances,  that  his  eloquence 
cannot  be  appreciated  by  any  account  of  it 
which  can  be  given  verbally,  or  which  can  be 
delineated  on  paper.  Yain  is  it,  therefore,  to 
look  into  his  printed  sermons  to  find  his  power. 
Equally  hopeless  is  it,  at  this  distant  day,  to 
write  his  life  with  the  idea  of  conveying  to  the 
reader  a  just  estimate  of  him  as  a  pulpit  ora- 
tor. Philip  seems  to  labor  under  this  con- 
sciousness when  he  admits  that  his  life  is  yet 
to  be  written.     But  we  can  scarcely  conceive 


BEV.  GEOKGE  WHITEFIELD.  165 

how  it  could  be  done  satisfactorily,  even  were 
Sou  they,  the  accomplished  biographer,  of  Wes- 
ley, alive,  and  willing  to  undertake  it. 

Whitefield's  eloquence  grew  out  of  many 
circumstances,  all  of  which  cannot  be  explored, 
any  more  than  we  can  trace  the  mysterious 
sources  of  the  rapid,  full-flowing,  and  fertiliz- 
ing Nile.  There  was  a  histrionic  vein  in  his 
very  boyhood.  The  play  of  his  passions  even 
then  was  wonderful.  As  he  grew  to  manhood, 
these  qualities  ripened  unconsciously  into 
strength ;  and  so  gifted  was  he  at  the  very 
outset  of  his  public  life,  that  had  he  chosen  the 
stage  instead  of  the  pulpit,  Garrick  might  have 
found  a  competitor  whose  genius  would  have 
eclipsed,  if  not  utterly  extinguished,  his  own. 
Such  is  said  to  have  been  the  admission  of  that 
celebrated  tragedian  after  listening  to  one  of 
Whitefield's  sermons. 

Without  being  handsome,  Whitefield's  face 
was  a  speaking  one.  It  was  a  luminous  medi- 
um of  the  passions.  The  bright  or  the  dark, 
the  lurid  cloud  and  the  calm  sunshine,  made 
themselves  known  not  only  in  .the  voice  and 
the  gesture,  but  especially  in  the  ever-varying 
expressions  of  the  eloquent  countenance.  The 
writer,  who  has  sought  to  obtain  from  every 


166  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

possible  source  traditionary  facts  concerning 
this  matchless  preacher,  once  heard  a  very  old 
man  say  that  when  he  was  listening  to  White- 
field  he  was  spell-bound,  and  could  scarcely 
•tell  by  what  means  the  magic  power  was  so 
potent  over  him.  After  some  questioning,  the 
old  man  said  he  believed  it  was  owing  to  his 
voice  in  part,  but  more  to  his  expressive  face. 
That  face  was  like  a  canvas,  and  the  preacher 
painted  on  it  every  passion  that  stirs  in  the 
human  breast.  It  was  at  one  moment  terrific, 
as  if  all  the  furies  were  enthroned  on  that  dark 
brow,  and  the  next,  as  by  a  dissolving  view, 
there  would  come  forth  an  angelic  sweetness 
that  savored  of  heaven  itself.  His  eyes,  up- 
turned, seemed  to  the  beholder  to  penetrate  to 
the  very  throne  of  God.  He  saw,  so  it  would 
seem,  the  celestial  host.  He  addressed  Ga- 
briel as  if  familiar  with  that  bright  archangel. 
He  bade  him  suspend  his  flight  and  receive 
the  news  and  bear  it  upward  that  one  more 
sinner  had  repented.  Who  but  Whitefield 
would  have  dared  the  almost  impossible  rhe- 
torical experiment?  Who  would  have  ven- 
tured to  cry  out,  "Stop,  Gabriel,  stop?''  But 
it  was  done  by  him,  and  as  naturally  as  if  the 
vision  were  real,  and  as  if  Gabriel  furled  his 


REV.  GEORGE  WHITEEIELD.  167 

wing  at  the  preacher's  call,  and  received  the 
joyful  message.  And  when  too  he  took  the 
sinner  to  the  judgment-seat,  tried  him  by  God's 
unerring  law,  brought  him  in  guilty,  and  then, 
with  moistened  eyes  and  a  heart  burning  with 
pity,  he  put  on  the  cap  of  condemnation,  and 
proceeded,  with  choking  utterance,  to  pro- 
nounce sentence,  while  the  audience  were 
melted  to  tears ;  when  all  this  was  done,  not 
as  an  actor  would  do  it,  but  in  the  faith  of  a 
real  prospective  scene,  and  with  unutterable 
sorrow  of  soul,  as  speaking  under  God's  high 
sanction,  how  intensely  moved  and  excited 
must  the  audience  have  been ! 

It  was  no  affectation  when  his  tears  fell 
like  rain.  It  was  for  no  rhetorical  effect  that 
he  threw  himself  into  these  impassioned  expos- 
tulations with  his  careless  and  impenitent  hear- 
ers. Whitefield  never  played  a  part.  His 
boldest  and  most  original  pulpit  efforts  were 
the  natural  efflux  of  a  soul  which  knew  no 
selfish  impulse,  but  which  beat  with  sincere 
love  to  lost  men.*  It  was  not  Whitefield,  but 
Christ  that  he  was  thinking  of.  It  was  not  to 
attract  admiration  upon  himself,  but  to  draw 
all  men  to  the  Saviour,  that  he  thus  spoke. 
His  eloquence  was  kindled  at  the  cross,  and 


168  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

displayed  its  grandest  features  when  redemp- 
tion by  that  cross  was  its  mighty  theme. 

His  personal  appearance — judging  from 
what  is  considered  the  best  engraved  like- 
ness— is  not  calculated  to  impress  us  either 
with  great  intellectual  force  or  a  graceful  exte- 
rior. That  wig  of  huge  dimensions,  covering 
and  concealing  the  higher  and  more  striking 
lineaments  of  the  forehead ;  the  upraised 
hands,  an  undesirable  thing  in  a  picture, 
though  a  most  impressive  one  to. witness;  his 
eyes,  so  small,  with  a  decided  cast  in  one  of 
them,  render  this  likeness  any  thing  but  con- 
sonant with  our  preconceived  notions  of  the 
"seraphic  man."  But  while  in  person  he  was 
not  among  the  most  majestic  or  the  most  at- 
tractive, all  defects  were  lost  sight  of  the  mo- 
ment that  eloquent  voice  began  to  peal  out  its 
unrivalled  music.  The  term  "seraphic"  was 
not  given  to  him  for  his  exterior  grace  or  his 
symmetrical  features.  It  was  the  spirit  within 
him  shining  through  and  illuminating  those  fea- 
tures, until  the  audience,  hushed  or  excited, 
were  ready  to  doubt  if  the  speaker  were  a  man 
or  an  angel.  His  burning  eloquence  seemed  to 
the  listener  as  properly  symbolizing  the  respon- 
sive cry  one  to  another  of  the  glowing  seraphim. 


REV.  GEORGE  WHITEFIELD.  169 

The  eloquence  of  Whitefield,  by  the  con- 
current testimony  of  those  with  whom  the 
writer  in  younger  days  conversed,  including 
one  venerable  divine,  was  owing,  as  in  most 
other  similar  cases,  to  a  combination  of  quali- 
ties, rather  than  to  any  single  excellence. 
The  great  foundation  of  it  all  lay  in  a  soul  of 
intense  emotions  stirred  to  its  very  depths  by 
the  power  of  religion.  He  was  a  consecrated 
man  from  the  first.  It  was  a  full,  joyful,  and 
cordial  surrender  of  all  his  powers  and  affec- 
tions to  Christ,  and  to  the  love  of  souls  for 
Christ's  sake.  He  counted  every  thing  but 
loss  for  Him.  His  love  was  the  grand  impul- 
sive power  in  all  his  journeys,  his  labors,  his 
self-denials,  and  his  aims.  In  this  respect  he 
came  nearer  than  any  modern  preacher  we 
know  of  to  "the  great  apostle  of  the  Gen- 
tiles." 

This  burning  zeal  for  Christ  found  expres- 
sion in  the  gesture,  the  countenance,  and  the 
voice.  These  were  the  electric  wires  through 
which  the  fiery  current  within  flowed  down  in 
startling  shocks  or  melting  influences  upon  lis- 
tening thousands.  In  gesture,  no  man  ever 
excelled,  perhaps  none  ever  equalled  him. 
These  gestures  were  unstudied,  and  so  gave 

Eloquent  Preachers.  S 


170  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

the  greater  emphasis  to  his  utterances.  A  sin' 
gle  movement  of  his  finger,  with  the  accompa- 
nying expression  of  his  face,  would  thrill  an 
audience  or  dissolve  them  in  tears.  His  face, 
radiant  with  the  light  from  heaven,  which  he 
had  caught  on  the  Mount  of  Communion,  begat 
an  immediate  sympathy,  as  all  eyes  were  riv- 
eted upon  it.  A  countenance  will  thus  affect 
us,  as  we  all  know.  How  often  have  we  felt 
its  power  ere  a  word  was  spoken.  But  Oh, 
when  that  face  began  to  throw  off  from  its  lus- 
trous surface  the  rays  of  divine  intelligence, 
and  when  tears  and  smiles  alternated,  as  the 
subject  was  pensive  or  joyful,  how  did  the 
audience  with  responsive  sympathy  weep  or 
rejoice  under  the  eloquent  preacher  !  But  the 
voice,  what  shall  we  say  of  that?  It  was  such 
as  man  is  seldom  gifted  with.  It  could  be 
heard  distinctly,  on  a  clear,  still  evening,  for 
a  mile.  It  was  smooth,  variable,  and  could 
express  the  gentlest  emotions.  It  was  capa- 
ble also  of  swelling  into  thunder-peals,  and 
then  every  ear  tingled  and  every  heart  trem- 
bled. If  the  organ  of  some  grand  cathedral 
had  the  power  to  speak,  and  could  express  the 
finest  and  most  tender  sentiments  from  its  del- 
icate pipes,  and  roll  forth  majestic  thoughts  on 


KEV.  GEOEGE  WHITEFIELD.  171 

its  largest  ones,  it  would  give  some  idea  of 
Whitefield's  variable  and  powerful  tones. 

"Whitefield's  power  as  a  pulpit  orator  can- 
not be  separated  from  his  pious  emotions  nor 
from  his  religious  views.  Had  lie  embraced  a 
theory  of  religion  less  emotional,  more  after 
the  pattern  of  rationalists  or  ritualists,  his 
eloquence  would  have  been  lost  to  the  world. 
Never  would  his  soul  so  have  taken  fire,  nor 
his  lips  glowed  with  the  burning  coal  of  enthu- 
siastic passion.  But  he  believed  in  man's  ruin 
by  sin ;  in  the  certain  interminable  woe  that 
awaits  the  impenitent;  in  the  mercy  of  God 
through  Jesus  Christ,  and  the  free  offer  of  sal- 
vation through  faith  in  the  cross.  Such  were 
his  views,  and  under  this  conviction  he  looked 
upon  his  audiences.  He  saw  but  one  hope  set 
before  them,  and  with  his  whole  soul  moved 
and  melted  by  the  love  of  Christ  on  the  one 
hand,  and  the  love  of  souls  on  the  other,  he 
pressed  every  hearer,  with  all  the  energy  of  a 
dying  man  speaking  to  dying  men,  to  accept 
the  great  salvation.  Nor  do  we  think  that 
the  pulpit  can  reach  its  appropriate  power, 
nor  for  any  length  of  time  retain  it,  unless 
these  grand  cardinal  doctrines  of  grace  are  the 
inspiring  themes. 


172  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

The  eloquence  of  Whitefield  never  waned. 
It  was  greater,  if  possible,  at  fifty  than  at 
thirty.  It  was  never  more  impressive  or  pow- 
erful than  when  the  silence  of  death  suddenly 
settled  upon  his  lips ;  and  his  last  efforts  in  the 
pulpit  partook  so  much  of  a  heavenly  inspira- 
tion, that  some  regarded  them  as  the  prepara- 
tory vibrations  of  that  golden  harp  upon  which 
he  was  to  swell  for  ever  the  high  notes  of  re- 
demption. 


.     ' 


KEV.  RICHARD  BAXTER.  173 


REV.  RICHARD  BAXTER. 

Among  the  names  of  the  past  which  need 
no  monumental  pile  to  perpetuate  their  mem- 
ory is  that  of  Richard  Baxter.  More  than  a 
century  and  a  half  has  rolled  away  since  he 
felUasleep,  and  yet  the  amaranth  upon  his 
brow  is  now  greener  and  emits  a  sweeter 
fragrance  than  when  it  was  first  wreathed 
around  it. 

Baxter  lived  in  stirring  times.  His  heroic 
bearing  when  the  church  was  in  peril,  his 
clarion  voice,  sounding  loud  and  clear  amid 
the  din  and  strife,  made  him  a  rallying  point 
for  the  persecuted,  and  a  terror  to  the  oppres- 
sor. He  was  a  man  of  true  courage,  fearing 
only  God,  and  acting  only  under  the  high  con- 
sideration of  duty.  When  the  church  de- 
manded what  his  conscience  could  not  con- 
cede, he  broke  away  from  her  thraldom ;  and 
when  Cromwell  succeeded  to  power,  he  enter- 
ed his  protest  against  what  he  considered  a 
usurpation.  And  after  the  restoration,  when 
a  wily  government  sought  to  close  his  mouth 
by  the  offer  of  a  bishopric,  he,  like  Owen,  re- 


174  ELOQUENT  PBEACHEES. 

fused  to  accept  it.  These  noble  men  thought 
less  of  their  own  elevation  than  of  the  inter- 
ests of  Zion,  and  cared  more  for  freedom  of 
speech  and  freedom  of  conscience  than  for  the 
emoluments  and  honors  of  a  bishopric. 

As  an  eloquent  preacher,  Baxter's  claim 
admits  not  of  a  doubt.  There  was  no  minister 
of  his  day  superior  to  him — and  it  was  a  day 
too  when  stars  of  the  first  magnitude  revolved 
in  the  ecclesiastical  sphere.  Dr.  John  Owen, 
the  man  of  immense  learning,  vice-chancellor 
of  the  University,  yet  in  spirit  humble  as  a 
child ;  John  Flavel,  of  burning  zeal,  and  with 
prayers  that  seemed  to  storm  the  citadel  of 
heaven ;  Matthew  Henry,  so  pithy  and  pointed 
in  his  interpretations  of  Scripture,  were  his 
contemporaries,  and  among  these  Baxter  moved 
as  a  sort  of  spiritual  Agamemnon.  With  the 
learning  of  Owen  he  combined  the  earnest- 
ness of  Flavel,  and  far  in  advance  of  both  was 
he  in  the  force  and  even  classic  purity  of  his 
style.  But  Baxter  regarded  style  only  as  a 
vehicle  of  thought,  and  adopted  words  and 
sentences  best  adapted  to  bring'  out  that 
thought  in  the  strongest  light,  just  as  the  artil- 
lerist regards  that  piece  of  ordnance  as  the  best 
which  carries  the  ball  furthest  and  sends  it  the 


REV.  RICHARD  BAXTER.  175 

most  surely  to  its  mark.  He  seems  never  to 
have  studied  how  lie  should  write,  but  what. 
The  thought  was  the  great  point,  and  the  mode 
of  expressing  it  was  intended  first  to  make  it 
clear,  and  next  to  give  it  point  and  power. 

Read  any  of  his  writings  and  you  will  see 
at  once  that  his  grand  design  was  to  get  the 
truth  vividly  before  the  reader — to  make  him 
not  only  see  and  acknowledge  it,  but  better 
still,  to  feel  it.  He  wrote  at  men.  Knowing 
that  the  heart  had  more  influence  for  or  against 
religion  than  the  intellect,  all  his  arguments 
and  appeals  addressed  to  the  reason  were 
simply  with  a  view  of  reaching  at  length  the 
selfish  and  sin-loving  heart.  He  is  in  this 
respect  a  model  for  all  succeeding  ministers. 
Preach  at  men  as  he  did,  use  language  simply 
to  give  force  to  thoughts,  assail  the  reason  only 
that  you  may  get  deeper  down  where  lies  the 
demon  of  selfishness  and  unbelief,  point  your 
artillery  in  the  direction  of  the  mail-coated 
conscience  and  heart  as  Baxter  did,  and  see  if 
the  pastor  of  Kidderminster  will  be  the  only 
one  to  witness  nearly  a  whole  town  converted 
to  the  faith  of  Jesus. 

Baxter  was  a  pulpit  orator  without  any 
idea  of  being  one.     He  had  no  such  end  in 


176  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

view.  He  was  filled  with  the  love  of  God 
and  the  love  of  souls,  and  his  only  aim  was  to 
bring  sinners  to  God  and  to  educate  them  for 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.  Every  thing  that  he 
did,  said,  or  Wrote  has  this  aim  only. 

He  was  by  nature  a  man  of  might  in  body 
as  well  as  in  mind.  Tall,  muscular,  and  of 
gigantic  strength,  he  was  a  match  for  any 
bravo.  Some  who  feared  not  his  moral  power 
stood  in  dread  of  his  strong  arm.  An  anec- 
dote illustrative  of  this  is  told  of  him.  A 
swaggering  bully  hearing  of  Baxter's  great 
strength,  was  disposed  to  put  it  to  the  test. 
So,  leading  his  horse  into  the  garden  where 
the  pastor  was  at  work,  he  began  in  no  very 
respectful  way  to  banter  him.  The  patience 
of  the  good  man  was  at  length  exhausted,  and 
dropping  his  spade,  he  seized  the  intruder  and 
pitched  him  over  the  fence.  The  astonished 
man,  picking  himself  up,  simply  said,  "Sir,  I 
will  thank  you  if  you  will  throw  my  horse 
over  after  me."  This  anecdote,  I  think,  was 
related  to  the  class  by  our  venerated  instruct- 
or, the  late  Rev.  Dr.  Miller  of  Princeton. 

Judging  from  his  writings,  Baxter  must 
have  had  great  power  in  the  pulpit.  It  is  im- 
possible that  such  burning  words  as  gleam  in 


KEV.  RICHARD  BAXTER.  177 

every  line  of  the  "Call  to  the  Unconverted" 
could  have  been  uttered  in  any  other  tones 
than  those  of  the  deepest  feeling.  He  seems 
fairly  to  clutch  the  soul  in  a  sort  of  a§pny,  as 
if,  so  far  as  man's  ability  could  prevent,  the 
sinner  must  not  take  another  step  in  the 
broad  road  to  hell.  He  expostulates,  he 
weeps,  he  pleads.  Rushing  between  the  prec- 
ipice and  the  infatuated  sinner  who  would  dare 
its  brink,  he  cries,  in  God's  name,  "Why  will 
ye  die  ?" 

His  "Saints'  Rest"  was  written  with  the 
heavenly  inheritance  almost  in  sight.  He  was 
himself  just  about,  as  he  supposed,  to  enter 
upon  it.  The  dividing  line  seemed  to  him  but 
a  breath.  He  lay  panting  on  the  brink  of  the 
cold  river,  directing  his  eyes  towards  the  ce- 
lestial landscape  which  his  faith  descried,  and 
for  which  his  heart  so  ardently  longed.  For- 
getting the  things  which  were  behind — the 
dreary  way  over  which  his  feet  had  toiled, 
and  the  sharp  conflicts  which  had  left  their 
scars  on  his  bruised  soul — he  now  concen- 
trates all  his  interest  on  the  glory  that  was  to 
be  revealed.  In  a  strain  seemingly  almost 
inspired,  he  paints  in  glowing  but  truthful  col- 
ors the  celestial  paradise.    He  makes  us  see  as 

8* 


178  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

it  were  into  heaven.  He  asks  us  to  accom- 
pany him  where  the  echo  of  the  angel  harps 
may  be  heard,  and  the  white  robes  of  the  re- 
deemed are  seen  to  glimmer.  So  far  as  lan- 
guage can  express,  or  the  imagination  picture 
the  glorified  state,  he  has  embodied  its  most 
striking  features,  while  yet  every  line  and 
lineament  is  in  accordance  with  the  simple 
revelations  of  the  Bible.  Ify  his  luminous 
and  penetrating  genius,  however,  he  has  placed 
in  new  and  attractive  lights  truths  which  had 
been  familiar ;  and  the  scenes  which  to  our 
weaker  faith  had  been  but  dimly  discerned, 
are  rendered  more  vivid  and  more  distinct 
through  the  medium  of  his  superior  spiritual 
vision.  As  no  man,  after  Bunyan,  can  venture 
to  write  another  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  no 
poet,  after  Milton,  can  hope  to  sing  of  Para- 
dise Lost,  so  no  author  can  expect  to  treat  of 
the  saints'  everlasting  rest,  since  this  ecstatic 
divine  has  written  out  the  impressions  which 
his  dying  vision  caught  of  its  attractions  and 
its  glories  In  truth,  so  far  as  language  can 
go  in  defining  and  a  sanctified  imagination  in 
conceiving  "the  rest  that  remaineth,"  Baxter 
may  be  said  to  have  exhausted  the  subject. 
He  has  left  nothing  more  to  be  said.     All  that 


KEV.  RICHARD  BAXTER.  179 

remains  is  to  see  and  to  realize,  and  that  can 
be  done  only  when  language  has  ceased  to  be 
a  medium  of  thought  and  the  visions  of  eter- 
nity are  brought  into  direct  contact  with  the 
Conscious  soul.  But  let  us  thank  Baxter  for 
strewing  our  path  to  heaven  with  flowers  so 
fragrant,  and  for  gilding  "  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death "  with  so  much  of  the  ra- 
diance of  "the  bright  and  morning  star." 
Long  familiar  with  this  world,  and  experimen- 
tally ignorant  of  the  dark  future,  few  can  look 
upon  death  without  some  dread.  But  how 
much  more  fearful  would  be  the  recoil  if  no 
such  compensations  and  hopes  and  prospects 
had  been  suggested  and  promised.  Praised 
be  God  for  revealing  the  antidote  to  death; 
and  thanks  to  Bichard  Baxter,  under  God,  for 
,  making  its  gateway  ring  with  the  notes  of  an- 
ticipated triumph. 

Baxter  was  not  only  a  champion  of  moral 
truth — a  sort  of  Cceur  de  Lion  in  the  field  of 
theological  warfare,  wielding  the  battle-axe  of 
argument  with  an  irresistible  arm — but  he  was 
equally  distinguished  in  the  home  field  of- 
peaceful  culture.  He  was  the  model  pastor  as 
well  as  the  model  preacher.  He  took  a  field, 
the  most  hopeless,  and  made  it  as  the  garden 


180  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEKS. 

of  God.  What  our  engineers  and  landscape 
gardeners  have  done  for  our  Central  Park, 
converting  barren  rocks  and  unhealthy  ra- 
vines into  a  paradise  of  beauty,  Baxter  did 
for  Kidderminster.  If  Augustus  Cassar  made 
it  his  boast  that,  having  found  Eome  brick,  he 
had  left  it  marble,  Baxter,  we  think,  might 
have  spoken  of  a  far  more  noble  achievement, 
when,  by  heaven's  blessing  on  his  spiritual 
labors,  he  had  transformed  Kidderminster 
from  a  heap  of  rubbish  and  ruins  to  a  living 
temple,  radiant  with  the  indwelling  presence 
of  God.  "Before  his  coming  thither,"  says 
one,  "the  place  was  overrun  with  ignorance 
and  profaneness ;  but  by  the  divine  blessing 
on  his  wise  and  faithful  cultivation,  the  fruits 
of  righteousness  sprang  up  in  rich  abundance. 
He  at  first  found  but  a  single  instance  or  two 
of  daily  family  prayer  in  a  whole  street ;  and 
at  his  going  away,  but  one  family  or  two  could 
be  found  in  some  streets  that  continued  to 
neglect  it.  And  on  Lord's  days,  inst«ad  of 
the  open  profanation  to  which  they  had  been 
so  long  accustomed,  a  person,  in  passing 
through  the  town  in  the  intervals  of  public 
worship,  might  even  hear  hundreds  of  families 
engaged  in  singing  psalms,  reading  the  Scrip- 


REV.  RICHARD  BAXTER.  181 

tures,  and  other  good  books,  or  such  sermons 
as  they  had  written  down  while  they  heard 
them  from  the  pulpit.  His  care  of  the  souls 
committed  to  his  charge  and  the  success  of  his 
labors  among  them  were  truly  remarkable,  for 
the  number  of  his  stated  communicants  rose  to 
six  hundred,  of  whom  he  himself  declared  there 
were  not  twelve  concerning  whose  sincere  piety 
he  had  not  reason  to  entertain  good  hopes." 

Such  a  man  was  authorized  to  speak  to 
ministers  of  their  duty,  and  to  the  saints  of 
their  everlasting  rest.  The  reformed  pastor  is 
after  all  but  the  real  pastor,  going  up  and 
down  the  streets  of  Kidderminster  warning 
every  man  and  teaching  every  man,  that  he 
might  present  every  man  perfect  in  Christ 
Jesus.  He  who  for  thirty  years  lay  almost 
on  the  borders  of  eternity,  expecting  every 
day  to  receive  his  summons  to  depart — who 
went  each  Sabbath  into  the  pulpit  and  preach- 
ed as  though  it  were  his  last  sermon,  might 
well  expatiate  on  the  mansions  of  eternal  rest, 
and  invoke  .the  lagging  disciples  to  rouse  up 
and  renew  the  race  for  immortality.  Every 
thing  about  Baxter  wore  the  aspect  of  a  heav- 
enly nobility.  Great  by  nature,  he  was  great- 
er still  by  grace.     The  masculine  strength  of 


182  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

character  which  he  originally  possessed  was 
softened  almost  into  angelic  sweetness  by  the 
sanctifying  power  of  religion.  Among  the 
great  lights  of  the  Reformation,  or  rather  vin- 
dication— for  he  contended  for  principles  which 
Luther  had  inaugurated  and  Calvin  defended — 
he  may,  in  the  language  of  another,  "be  re- 
garded as  a  standard-bearer.  He  labored 
much,  as  well  in  preaching  as  in  writing,  and 
with  an  abundant  blessing  on  both.  He  had 
all  the  high  mental  qualities  of  his  class  in 
perfection.  His  mind  is  inexhaustible  and 
vigorous  and  vivacious  to  an  extraordinary 
degree.  He  seizes  irresistibly  on  the  atten- 
tion, and  carries  it  along  with  him,  and  we 
assuredly  do  not  know  any  author  who  can  be 
compared  with  him  for  the  power  with  which 
he  brings  his  reader  directly  face  to  face  with 
death,  judgment,  and  eternity,  and  compels 
him  to  look  upon  them  and  converse  with 
them.  He  is  himself  most  deeply  serious,  and 
the  holy  solemnity  of  his  own  soul  seems  to 
envelope  the  reader  as  with  the  air  of  a  tem- 
ple." 


KEY.  JOHN  BUNYAN.  183 


REV.  JOHN  BUNYAN. 

The  name  of  Bunyan  is  familiar  to  every 
Christian  household.  His  Pilgrim's  Progress* 
has  a  high  place  in  their  affections,  and  in 
many  of  their  libraries  it  is  placed  next  to  the 
Bible  itself.  Few  however  have  thought  of 
Bunyan  as  an  eloquent  expositor  of  those  doc- 
trines so  beautifully  illustrated  in  his  immortal 
allegory.  Whereas,  if  they  will  read  his  Life 
and  Times,  they  will  discover  that  his  claim  to 
their  admiration  is  founded  not  only  on  what 
he  has  written,  but  on  what  he  did  and  suffered 
in  the  cause  of  evangelical  truth.  A  noble 
witness  was  he  for  God,  when  priestly  power 
dominated  over  liberty  of  conscience.  He  pre- 
ferred twelve  years'  imprisonment  in  Bedford 
jail  to  a  freedom  which,  if  enjoyed,  must  needs 
have  been  purchased  at  the  sacrifice  of  princi- 
ple. But  what  intolerance  did  against  Bunyan, 
Providence  overruled  for  the  benefit  of  man- 
kind. His  incarceration  suggested  his  Pil- 
grim's Progress,  and  gave  him  the  time  to 
work  it  out  in  all  its  graphic  and  picturesque 
beauty.     "Out  of  the  eater  thus  came  forth 


184  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

meat,  and  out  of  the  strong  came  forth  sweet- 
ness." Thanks  to  Grod,  who  caused  the  rod  of 
the  oppressor  to  blossom  into  fragrance  and  to 
bear  such  refreshing  fruit. 

But  we  have  to  do  with  Bunyan  not  as  the 
*epic  poet  of  Christian  heroism,  but  as  a  preach- 
er of  the  gospel.  Long  time  was  he  in  prep- 
aration for  this  great  work.  His  theology  was  . 
not  learned  in  the  schools  of  the  prophets,  but 
altogether  in  the  school  of  Christ.  His  text- 
book was  the  simple  word  of  God,  and  his 
teacher  was  the  Holy  Spirit.  Drawing  his 
knowledge  thus  from  the  fountain-head,  it  was 
fresh  and  pure ;  and  taught  by  the  Spirit,  it 
was  viewed  in  those  lights  and  relations  which 
reflected  lustre  on  each  particular  doctrine, 
and  gave  impressiveness  to  the  whole. 

No  man  perhaps  ever  passed  through  a 
severer  ordeal  of  inward  trials  and  tempta- 
tions. The  old  man  of  sin  had  such  power, 
and  held  it  so  long,  that  when  the  struggle  of 
the  new  man  began  it  was  almost  like  the  giv- 
ing up  of  the  ghost.  But  the  demon  was  at 
length  cast  out ;  and  then  such  peace,  such  set- 
tled purpose  of  obedience,  such  simple  trust  in 
Christ  took  possession  of  his  soul,  that  thence- 
forward Bunyan  ran  the  race  like  a  victorious 


EEV.  JOHN  BUNYAN.  185 

competitor  of  the  Olympic  games.  Such  was 
the  training  of  this  obscure  and  humble  man 
for  the  work  of  the  ministry,  which,  with  great 
diffidence  and  after  many  misgivings,  he  en- 
tered upon  in  the  year  1656.  "Wherefore," 
says  he,  "though  of  myself  of  all  the  saints  the 
most  unworthy,  yet  I,  with  great  fear  and 
trembling  at  the  sight  of  my  own  weakness, 
did  set  upon  the  work,  and  did,  according  to 
my  gifts  and  the  proportion  of  my  faith,  preach 
that  blessed  gospel  that  God  had  showed  me 
in  the  holy  word  of  truth." 

Who  can  doubt  that  Bunyan's  genius  would 
have  been  cramped,  if  not  fettered,  by  the 
learning  of  the  schools?  or  that  a  three  years' 
drill  in  a  theological  seminary  would  have  rob- 
bed his  style  of  much  of  its  Saxon  strength  and 
his  spirit  of  much  of  its  ethereal  fire?  Philip, 
in  his  Life  of  Bunyan,  says,  speaking  of  Bishop 
Burton's  criticisms,  "I  can  now  see  Burton's 
face  lighted  up  with  complacency  when  he  de- 
clared, concerning  Bunyan's  preparation  for 
the  ministry,  'He  hath,  through  grace,  taken 
three  heavenly  degrees,  namely,  union  with 
Christ,  the  anointing  of  the  Spirit,  and  experi- 
ence of  temptation,  which  do  more  to  fit  a  man 
for  the  weighty  work  of  preaching  the  gospel 


186  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEKS. 

than  all  the  university  learning  and  degrees 
that  can  be  had.'  " 

Thus  fitted,  Bunyan  began  in  a  very  hum- 
ble way  to  exhibit  his  gifts,  as  the  phrase  then 
was,  and  forthwith  the  people  were  startled 
and  astonished  by  his  earnest,  scriptural,  and 
unctuous  style  of  preaching.  Hundreds  flocked 
in  from  all  quarters,  and  the  word  as  dispensed 
by  him  was  quick  and  powerful,  convincing 
men  of  their  sins,  and  leading  them  to  hope  in 
Jesus.  "At  this  therefore  I  rejoiced;  for  the 
tears  of  those  whom  God  did  awaken  by  my 
preaching  would  be  both  solace  and  encourage- 
ment to  me.  These  things  therefore  were  as 
another  argument  unto  me  that  God  had  called 
me  to  and  stood  by  me  in  this  work." 

.  Bunyan's  first  efforts  at  preaching  were 
of  the  experimental  style ;  that  is,  he  simply 
preached  as  he  felt.  At  first  it  was  princi- 
pally of  the  legal  type,  and  aimed  at  arousing 
the  conscience.  This  was  owing  to  the  fact 
that  his  own  soul  was  stirred  to  its  very  depths 
by  awful  views  of  his  just  condemnation  by  the 
law.  He  went  through  the  land  fulminating 
against  the  vices  and  sins  of  his  hearers,  and 
pouring  on  their  ears  the  terrors  of  a  hastening 
retribution.     But  as  God  revealed  to  him  more 


KEV.  JOHN  BTJNYAN.  187 

of  the  hopes  and  joys  of  salvation,  he  exchanged 
the  trumpet  of  condemnation  for  the  harp  of 
mercy.  "I  preached  what  I  smartingly  did 
feel — even  that  under  which  my  poor  soul  did 
groan  and  tremble  to  astonishment.  I  went 
myself  in  chains  to  preach  to  them  in  chains. 
Thus  I  went  on  for  the  space  of  two  years, 
crying  out  against  men's  sins  and  their  fearful 
state  because  of  them.  After  which  the  Lord 
came  upon  my  soul  with  some  pure  peace  and 
comfort  through  Christ.  Wherefore  now  I  al- 
tered my  preaching,  for  still  I  preached  what 
I  saw  and  felt :  now  therefore  I  did  much  labor 
to  hold  forth  Jesus  Christ  in  all  his  offices,  re- 
lations, and  benefits  to  the  world."  We  can- 
not help  asking  here,  What  sort  of  sermons 
would  our  audiences  now  have  if,  following 
Bunyan's  example,  ministers  preached  just 
what  they  felt? 

It  must  not  be  supposed  that  Bunyan's 
lowly  origin  and  humble  occupation  rendered 
him  coarse  or  vulgar,  for  a  refined  manner  and 
courteous  bearing  is  sometimes  to  be  found  in 
other  circles  than  those  of  wealth  or  high  so- 
cial position.  "Never,"  said  one  who  had  the 
means  of  knowing,  "was  a  rougher  diamond 
polished  into  the  beauty  of  holiness.     He  be- 


188  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

came  a  gentleman  too,  when  lie  became  a  Chris- 
tian. I  have  heard  men  of  fine  tact  apply  to 
him  playfully  the  expression,  He  not  having 
the  law — of  good  breeding — was  a  law  unto 
himself;  thus  showing  the  work  of  that  law 
written  on  his  own  heart."  We  discover  in 
the  engraved  likeness  of  him  an  elevation  and 
purity  of  soul  beaming  in  the  eye  and  from 
the  brow,  which  exclude  all  idea  of  rusticity  or 
coarseness.  The  very  roughness  of  the  orig- 
inal gem  only  rendered  it  the  more  sparkling 
after  it  had  been  cut  and  set  by  Him  who 
"niaketh  up  his  jewels." 

Bunyan's  remarkable  conversion,  taken  in 
connection  with  his  humble  origin  and  occupa- 
tion, drew  no  doubt  public  attention  to  his 
preaching.  But  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that 
these  were  the  principal  attractions.  The 
power  to  interest  all  classes — for  the  high  as 
well  as  the  low  flocked  to  hear  him — lay  in  his 
strong  common-sense,  his  vivid  fancy,  and  his 
unquestioned  sincerity.  His  piety,  planted  in 
the  very  depths  of  his  soul,  welled  up  like  an 
overflowing  fountain  whenever  he  discoursed 
on  1  hemes  divine.  There  was  also  terrible 
point  and  directness  in  his  appeals.  "Those," 
says  his  biographer,  "who  have  read  Bunyan's 


BEV.  JOHN  BUNYAN.  189 

sermons,  know  well  how  lie  could  particularize. 
There  is  a  personality  as  well  as  point  in  his 
improvements,  which  makes  individuals  stand 
out  even  to  the  eye  of  the  reader.  We  almost 
expect  the  strain  of  the  appeal  to  take  a  new 
turn  from  some  pentecostal  outcry." 

And  here  permit  me  to  introduce  a  single 
specimen  illustrative  of  the  point  and  lively 
vigor  of  his  preaching.  It  is  from  his  sermon 
to  "Jerusalem  sinners."  Peter  is  offering  sal- 
vation freely  to  those  who,  in  Bunyan's  own 
strong  language,  "had  their  hands  up  to  the  el- 
bows in  his,"  Jesus',  "heart's  blood."  "Eepent 
every  one  of  you,  for  the  remission  of  sins." 
Unable  to  credit  at  once  the  sincerity  of  this 
offer,  the  first  cries  out,  "But  /  was  one  of 
those  that  plotted  to  take  away  his  life.  May 
I  he  saved?"  Peter.  "Every  one  of  you." 
"But  I"  says  another,  "was  one  of  those  that 
bore  false  witness  against  him.  Is  there  grace 
for  me?"  Peter.  "For  every  one  of  you." 
"But,"  says  a  third,  "I  was  of  them  that  cried 
out,  'Crucify  him,  crucify  him.'  What  will 
become  of  me,  think  you?"  Peter.  "I  am  to 
preach  remission  of  sins  to  every  one  of  you." 
"But  I  was  one  of  them,"  exclaims  a  fourth, 
."that  did  spit  in  his  face — that  mocked  him 


190  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

when,  in  anguish,  he  hung  bleeding  on  the 
tree.  Is  there  room  for  me?"  Peter.  "For 
every  one  of  you."  But  this  is  not  all.  These 
Jerusalem  sinners  must  have  this  offer  again 
and  again.  Every  one  of  them  must  be  offered 
grace  over  and  over.  What  a  pitch  of  grace 
is  this !     Christ  was  minded  to  amaze  the  world. 

"Reasons  for  this  offer:  1.  Because  the 
biggest  sinners  have  most  need  of  mercy.  2. 
Because  when  they  receive  such  mercy,  it  re- 
dounds most  to  the  fame  of  Christ.  3.  Because 
others,  hearing,  will  be  encouraged  the  more  to 
come  to  him  for  life.  4.  Because,  showing 
mercy  to  the  worst  first,  Christ  most  weakens 
the  kingdom  of  Satan.  5.  Because  the  biggest 
sinners,  when  converted,  are  usually  the  best 
helps  in  the  church.  6.  Because  such,  when 
converted,  are  apt  to  love  Christ  most.  7.  Be- 
cause by  that  means  the  impenitent  will  be  left 
without  excuse  at  the  day  of  judgment." 

Such  is  an  outline*  of  a  great  sermon,  whose 
bold  and  burning  words  rang  like  God's  trum- 
pet through  the  assembly,  and  made  the  sin- 
ners of  that  day  feel  that  while  those  of  Jeru- 
salem, not  more  hardened  than  themselves, 
had  the  offer  of  mercy,  they  too  were  required 
to  repent  and  accept  the  great  salvation. 


BEV.  JOHN  BUIYAN.  191 

One  more  extract:  it  is  "the  fruitless  pro- 
fessor." "Come,  Death,  smite  me  this  barren 
fig-tree!  At  this,  Death  comes  into  the  cham- 
ber with  grim  looks,  and  hell  following  him  to 
the  bedside.  Both  stare  this  fruitless  professor 
in  the  face ;  yea,  begin  to  lay  hands  upon  him : 
one  smiting  him  with  headache,  heartache, 
shortness  of  breath,  fainting,  qualms,  trembling 
joints,  stoppage  of  the  chest,  and  almost  all  the 
symptoms  of  one  past  recovery;  the  other 
(hell)  casting  sparks  of  fire  into  the  mind 
and  conscience.  Now  he  begins  to  cry,  'Lord, 
spare  me!'  'Nay,'  saith  God,  'you  have  been 
a  provocation  to  me  these  three  years.  Take 
him,  Death!'  'Oh,  good  Lord,'  saith  the  sin- 
ner, 'spare  me  this  one  time,  and  I  will  do 
better.'  'But  will  you  promise  to  amend?' 
'Yes,  indeed,  Lord,  and  vow  it  too.'  'Well,' 
saith  God,  'Death,  let  this  professor  alone  for 
this  time.  He  hath  vowed  to  amend  his  ways, 
and  vows  are  solemn  things.  It  may  be  he 
will  be  afraid  to  break  his  vows.'  And  now 
God  lays  down  the  axe.  At  this  the  poor 
creature  is  very  thankful,  and  calls  on  others 
to  thank  God."  After  describing  a  second 
interview,  in  equally  dramatic  and  powerful 
style,  the  professor  having  proved  false  to  his 


192  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEKS. 

vows,  God  comes  to  Mm  with  axe  in  hand  for 
the  last  time.  "Grod's  fury  cometh  up  in  his 
face.  He  sweareth  in  his  wrath  that  they  shall 
not  enter  into  his  rest.  '  Cut  it  down ;  why 
cumbereth  it  the  ground  V  " 

These  extracts  may  give  some  idea  of  the 
power  which  the  great  allegorist  exerted  in  the 
pulpit.  The  imagination,  however,  must  sup- 
ply the  intense  fervor,  the  expression  of  face 
and  gesture,  and  the  varied  intonations  of  the 
voice.  There  can  be  no  doubt  that  Bunyan 
was  as  eloquent  in  the  pulpit  as  he  was  attrac- 
tive with  the  pen;  and  that  his  Pilgrim  was 
but  an  impersonation  of  himself — that  the  epic 
beauty  of  his  hero  was  but  a  just  reflection  of 
the  real  mail-clad  soldier  of  the  cross,  passing 
through  sufferings  to  glory. 

He  often  visited  London,  "where,"  says 
Southey,  "his  reputation  was  so  great,  that  if 
a  day's  notice  was  given,  the  meeting-house  at 
Southwark,  at  which  he  generally  preached, 
would  not  contain  half  the  people.  Twelve 
hundred  persons  would  attend  his  morning 
meeting  in  dark  winter-time,  and  three  thou- 
sand came  to  attend  him  at  a  towns-end  meet- 
ing, where  he  was  fain  to  be  pulled  through  a 
back  door  almost  over  the  people  to  get  to  the 


EEV.  JOHN  BUNtfAN.  193 

pulpit.  The  sermons  which  he  preached  at 
Sinners'  Hall  were  those  which  led  Dr.  Owen 
to  say  to  Charles  II.,  when  the  king  upbraided 
him  for  hearing  an  illiterate  tinker  prate, 
'Please  your  majesty,  could  I  possess  that 
tinker's  abilities  for  preaching,  I  would  most 
gladly  relinquish  all  my  learning.'  " 

The  secret  of  Bunyan's  power  is  to  be  found 
in  a  combination  of  deep,  intimate,  and  exper- 
imental acquaintance  with  his  own  heart,  and 
a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures.  Pen- 
etrating through  and  illuminating  all,  was  a 
fancy  of  the  most  vigorous  and  lively  kind. 
It  was  an  atmosphere  on  which  the  sunlight  of 
heaven  fell  and  was  refracted  in  a  thousand 
forms  of  prismatic  beauty.  Dante's  hell  was 
not  more  dreadful  than  was  Bunyan's  "Valley 
and  Shadow  of  Death,"  with  its  pictured  gloom 
and  "its  goblins  damned."  Nor  was  Milton's 
Paradise  a  more  vivid  type  of  heaven  than 
was  Bunyan's  land  of  Beulah,  his  Delectable 
Hills,  and  his  dim  but  glory-tipped  pinnacles 
of  the  Celestial  City. 

Here  and  there,  at  long  intervals,  there  is 
a  mind  of  instinctive  genius  which  would  be 
spoiled  by  cultivation.  Bunyan's,  we  think, 
was  of  this  kind.     The  Saxon  strength  of  his 

Kin  quent  Preachers.  y 


194  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

language  could  not  have  found  any  help  from 
either  the  Greek  or  the  Latin.  His  rich  and 
powerful  imagination,  which  gave  birth  to  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  would  not  have  soared  so 
sublimely  into  the  very  precincts  of  heaven, 
had  its  wings  been  bathed  in  the  fountains  of 
Helicon  instead  of  the  purer  waters  of  Siloam. 
But  this  example  of  genius  without  learning, 
and  pulpit  power  without  the  training  of  the 
schools,  is  no  reason  for  undervaluing  learning 
or  the  schools  wherein  it  is  obtained.  There 
has  been  but  one  Bunyan,  as  there  has  been 
but  one  Shakspeare.  Such  geniuses  are  like 
angels'  visits.  I-t  would  not  do  to  wait  for 
them — scarcely  to  wish  for  them.  Differing 
from  each  other  in  glory,  the  stars,  even  the 
smallest,  are  all  needed  to  illuminate  the  earth 
and  beautify  the  heavens.  Viewing  Bunyan's 
origin,  his  conversion,  his  conflicts,  his  provi- 
dential discipline,  all  conspiring  to  make  him 
so  admirable  an  instrument  in  God's  hand  for 
bringing  out  and  establishing  on  an  immovable 
basis  the  experimental  philosophy  of  Christian- 
ity, we  close  by  saying  that  the  Christian  world 
owes  a  debt  of  gratitude  not  only  to  the  author 
of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress,  but  to  Him  whose 
inspiration  gave  him  so  fine  an  understanding. 


EEV.  JAMES  SAUEIN.  195 


REV.  JAMES  SAURIN. 

In  1685  Louis  XIV.,  at  the  instigation  of 
the  Jesuits,  revoked  the  edict  of  Nantes,  by 
which  act  eighty  thousand  Protestants  were 
driven  into  exile.  "  A  thousand  dreadful 
blows."  says  Mr.  Saurin,  "  were  struck  at  our 
afflicted  churches  before  that  which  destroyed 
them;  for  our  enemies,  if  I  may  use  such  an 
expression,  not  content  with  seeing  our  ruin, 
endeavored  to  taste  it." 

The  Saurin  family  fled  to  Geneva,  and 
there  James,  the  eloquent  preacher  at  the 
Hague,  was  educated.  After  trying  military 
life  for  a  while,  he  returned  to  Geneva,  and 
under  the  tuition  of  some  of  the  most  celebrat- 
ed masters,  among  whom  were  Pictet  and  Tur- 
retin,  he  completed  his  theological  studies  in 
1700.  He  then  visited  Holland  and  England. 
In  the  latter  kingdom  he  staid  five  years, 
preaching,  with  great  acceptance,  to  his  fellow- 
exiles  in  the  city  of  London. 

It  required  no  Small  amount  of  self-denial 
for  a  young  man  of  genius,  of  high  family  con- 
nections, driven  from  his  native  home  by  a 


196  ELOQUENT    PREACHERS. 

most  relentless  persecution,  to  enter  the  minis- 
try, not  knowing  where  to  go  nor  what  might 
befall  him.  But  when  the  love  of  Christ  moves 
the  heart  all  considerations  of  expediency 
vanish,  and  the  simple  and  sublime  question 
of  duty  absorbs  and  governs  the  soul.  In  a 
brief  notice  of  his  consecration  to  the  sacred 
office,  given  by  the  translator  of  his  sermons, 
there  is  a  just  tribute  to  the  lofty  self-denial 
of  the  young  preacher.  "To  dedicate  one's 
self  to  the  ministry  in  a  wealthy,  nourishing 
church,  where  rich  benefices  are  every  day 
becoming  vacant,  requires  very  little  virtue, 
and  sometimes  only  a  strong  propensity  to 
vice ;  but  to  choose  to  be  a  minister  in  such  a 
poor,  banished,  persecuted  church  as  that  of 
the  French  Protestants,  argues  a  noble  con- 
tempt of  the  world,  and  a  supreme  love  to 
God  and  to  the  souls  of  men.  These  are  the 
best  testimonials,  however,  of  a  young  minis- 
ter, whose  profession  is  not  to  enrich,  but  to 
save  himself  and  them  who  hear  him." 

His  preaching  in  London  was  characterized 
by  great  eloquence  and  power.  The  general 
population  could  not  of  course  appreciate  it, 
since  it  was  addressed  to  his  own  countrymen, 
and  in  their  own  language.     Remarking  on  his 


REV.  JAMES  SAURIN.  197 

dress  and  address,  the  writer  before  alluded  to 
says, ' '  The  former  was  that  of  the  French  clergy, 
the. gown  and  cassock ;  the  latter  was  perfectly 
genteel,  a  happy  compound  of  the  affable  and 
the  grave — at  an  equal  distance  from  rusticity 
and  foppery.  His  voice  was  strong,  clear,  and 
harmonious,  and  he  never  lost  the  management 
of  it.  His  style  was  pure,  unaffected,  and  elo- 
quent— sometimes  plain,  and  sometimes  flowery, 
but  never  improper,  as  it  was  always  adapted 
to  the  audience  for  whose  sake  he  spoke." 

"An  Italian  acquaintance  of  mine,"  says 
the  same  writer,  "who  often  heard  him  at  the 
Hague,  tells  me  that  in  the  introduction  of  his 
sermons  he  used  to  deliver  himself  in  a  tone 
modest  and  low.  In  the  body  of  the  sermon, 
which  was  adapted  to  the  understanding,  he 
was  plain,  clear,  and  argumentative,  pausing 
at  the  close  of  each  period  that  he  might  dis- 
cover, by  the  countenance  and  motions  of  his 
hearers,  whether  they  were  convinced  by  his 
reasoning.  In  his  addresses  to  the  wicked  he 
was  often  sonorous,  but  oftener  a  weeping  sup- 
pliant at  their  feet.  In  the  one  he  sustained 
the  authoritative  dignity  of  his  office,  in  the 
other  he  expressed  his  Master's  and  his  own 
benevolence   to  bad   men,   praying   them,   in 


198  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEKS. 

Christ's  stead,  to  be  reconciled  to  God.  In 
general  his  preaching  resembled  a  plentiful 
shower  of  dew,  softly  and  imperceptibly  insin- 
uating itself  into  the  minds  of  his  numerous 
hearers,  till  the  whole  church  was  dissolved 
and  all  in  tears  under  his  sermons." 

In  1705  he  returned  to  Holland,  and  being 
invited  by  the  French  refugees  who  had  set- 
tled at  the  Hague  to  become  their  pastor,  he 
accepted  the  invitation,  and  continued  his 
labors  among  them  until  he  died.  The  Prince 
of  Orange,  who  had  here  a  spacious  palace, 
allowed  them  the  use  of  its  chapel  as  their 
place  of  worship,  where,  every  Sunday,  Sau- 
rin's  ministry  was  attended  by  a  crowded  and 
brilliant  audience.  Not  only  was  he  here  lis- 
tened to  with*  the  utmost  attention  and  plea- 
sure, but  the  effects  of  his  ministerial  labors 
were  seen  in  the  holy  lives  of  great  numbers  of 
his  people. 

His  interview  with  Queen  Caroline,  then 
Princess  of  Wales,  is  worth  relating,  not  so 
much  as  a  matter  of  condescension  on  the  part 
of  royalty  as  for  the  noble  testimony  which 
she  bore  to  an  all-governing  Providence.  In 
a  levee,  where  many  of  the  clergy  were  paying 
their  respects  to  her  royal  highness,  then  on 


REV.  JAMES  SAURIN.  199 

her  way  to  England,  she  singled  out  Mr.  Sau- 
rin,  and  addressed  him  as  follows:  "Do  not 
imagine  that,  being  dazzled  with  the  glory 
which  this  revolution  seems  to  promise  me,  I 
have  lost  sight  of  that  God  from  whom  it  pro- 
ceeds. He  hath  been  pleased  to  distinguish  it 
with  so  many  extraordinary  marks,  that  I  can- 
not mistake  his  divine  hand ;  and  as  I  consider 
this  long  train  of  favors  as  immediately  com- 
ing from  him,  to  him  alone  I  consecrate  them." 
The  same  royal  lady  wrote,  requesting  Saurin 
to  prepare  a  treatise  on  the  Education  of  Princes, 
which  he  did  to  her  entire  satisfaction. 

At  this  distant  date  all  the  means  we  have 
for  judging  of  the  pulpit  power  of  this  eminent 
divine  are  the  few  hints  already  quoted,  to- 
gether with  his  published  sermons.  The  lat- 
ter extend  through  twelve  volumes,  and  are 
regarded  by  ministers  as  among  the  sublimest 
discussions  and  illustrations  of  inspired  truth. 
There  is  a  simple  grandeur  in  Saurin  which 
we  meet  with  nowhere  else.  More  brilliant 
flashes  of  genius  may  be  found  in  Jeremy 
Taylor,  a  more  majestic  march  of  sentences  in 
Chalmers,  a  more  compact  and  classic  style  in 
Hall,  and  bolder  personifications  in  the  impas- 
sioned Whitefield ;  but  for  the  clear,  onflowing 


200  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

current  of  thought  that  bears  clown  every  thing 
before  it,  none  can  exceed  this  master  of  pul- 
pit eloquence.  Like  a  river  that  rolls  deep 
and  impetuous  until  it  loses  itself  in  the  vast 
ocean,  his  train  of  thought  and  reasoning,  en- 
livened by  occasional  flashes  of  eloquence,  ever 
tends  to  one  grand  issue — namely,  the  illus- 
tration" of  the  divine  majesty  and  glory  in  the 
wondrous  work  of  redemption.  We  give  a  few 
brief  extracts.  He  is  on  the  insufficiency  of 
earth  to  satisfy  the  soul's  desires. 

"Nature  is  too  indigent.  It  may  indeed 
afford  us  a  temperate  air,  an  earth  enamelled 
with  flowers,  trees  laden  with  fruits,  and  cli- 
mates rich  with  delights;  but  all  its  present 
beauties  are  inadequate  to  the  love  of  God ; 
and  there  must  be  another  world,  another 
economy,  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. 
Our  faculties  are  too  indigent.  They  might 
indeed  admit  abundant  pleasures;  for  we  are 
capable  of  knowing,  and  God  could  gratify  our 
desire  of  knowledge.  We  are  capable  of 
agreeable  sensations,  and  God  is  able  to  give 
us  objects  proportionable  to  our  sensations ; 
but  all  these  gratifications  would  be  too  little 
to  express  the  love  of  God  to  us.  Our  facul- 
ties must  be  renewed,  and  in  some  sense  new 


EEV.  JAMES  SAURIN.  201 

cast ;  the  natural  body  must  become  a  spiritual 
body,  so  that  by  means  of  more  delicate  or- 
gans we  may  enjoy  more  exquisite  pleasures. 
Society  is  too  indigent ;  although  society  might 
become  an  ocean  of  pleasure  to  us.  There  are 
men  whose  friendships  are  full  of  charms,  and 
G-od  is  able  to  place  us  among  such  amiable 
characters  in  this  world;  but  society  hath 
nothing  great  enough  to  express  the  love  of 
God  to  us.  We  must  be  introduced  to  the 
society  of  glorified  saints,  and  to  thousands  of 
angels  and  happy  spirits,  who  are  capable  of 
more "  magnanimity  and  delicacy  than  all  that 
we  can  imagine  here.  Religion  itself  is  too  in- 
digent, although  it  might  open  to  us  a  source 
of  delight.  Yet  even  religion  can  afford  noth- 
ing here  below  that  can  sufficiently  express 
the  love  of  God  to  us.  We  must  be  admitted 
into  that  state  in  which  there  is  neither  temple 
nor  sun,  because  God  supplieth  the  place  of 
both.  We  are  to  behold  God,  not  surrounded 
with  such  a  handful  of  people  as  this,  but  with 
thousand  thousands  and  ten  thousand  times 
ten  thousand,  who  stand  continually  before 
him.  We  must  see  God,  not  in  the  display  of 
his  grace  in  our  churches,  but  in  all  the  mag- 
nificence of  his  glory  in  heaven.     From  what 

9*- 


202  ELOQUENT    PKEACHEBS. 

sources  do  those  rivers  of  pleasure  flow?     It 
is  love  which  lays  up  all  this  goodness  for  us. 

"Let us  meditate  on  the  love  of  God,  who, 
being. supremely  happy  himself,  communicateth 
perfect  happiness  to  us.  Supreme  happiness 
doth  not  make  God  forget  us ;  shall  the  miser- 
able comforts  of  this  life  make  us  forget  him  ? 
Our  attachments  to  this  life  are  so  strong,  the 
acquaintances  we  have  contracted  in  this  world 
so  many,  and  the  relations'  we  bear  so  tender, 
we  are,  in  a  word,  so  habituated  to  live,  that 
we  need  not  wonder  if  it  cost  us  a  good  deal 
to  be  willing  to  die.  But  this  attachment  to 
life  which,  when  it  proceeds  only  to  a  certain 
degree,  is  a  sinless  infirmity,  becomes  one  of 
the  most  criminal  dispositions  when  it  exceeds 
its  just  limits.  It  is  not  right  that  the  objects 
of  divine  love  should  lose  sight  of  their  chief 
good  in  a  world  where,  after  their  best  en- 
deavors, there  will  be  too  many  obstacles  be- 
tween them  and  God.  It  is  not  right  that 
rational  creatures,  who  have  heard  of  the 
pure,  extensive,  and  munificent  love  of  God 
to  them,  should  be  destitute  of  the  most  ar- 
dent desires  of  a  closer  reunion  to  him  than 
any  that  can  be  attained  in  this  life.  One 
single  moment's  delay  should  give  us  pain; 


EEV.  JAMES  SAUEIN.  203 

and  if  we  wish  to  live,  it  should  be  ouly  to 
prepare  to  die." 

Such  thoughts  as  the  above  show  that  he 
who  uttered  them  must  have  had  his  conver- 
sation in  heaven,  and  must  have  known  what 
it  is  to  be  "  crucified  to  the  world.77  It  is  spir- 
itual eloquence.  It  is  the  echo  of  Paul7s  im- 
patient but  triumphant  declaration,  "  I  have 
a  desire  to  depart,  and  to  be  with  Christ."  He 
speaks  to  us  as  from  a  higher  atmosphere,  say- 
ing, "  Come  up  hither.77  Like  the  transfigura- 
tion scene,  the  glory  and  brightness  are  such 
that  they  ravish,  while  at  the  same  time  they 
confound  us.  Saurin7s  eloquence  has  much  of 
the  aroma  of  heaven.  It  seems  laden  with  the 
balm  of  the  tree  of  life,  and  regales  the  sym- 
pathies of  the  sonl  as  odoriferous  plants  do  the 
senses  of  the  body.  He  is  more  of  a  Barnabas 
than  a  Boanerges.  Love  is  the  more  natural 
atmosphere  than  terror,  and  his  tears  flow  more 
frequently  over  man7s  misery,  than  do  his 
threatenings  over  man7s  guilt.  Profound  and 
even  sublime  as  are  some  of  his  discourses,  yet 
the  gentle  element  of  love,  like  a  transparent 
veil,  is  spread  over  all,  giving  a  softened  aspect 
to  truths  which  might  otherwise  seem  harsh  or 
repulsive. 


204  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 


JOHN  BAPTIST  MASSILLON* 

If  Saurin  may  be  regarded  as  a  fine  type 
of  the  Protestant  clergy  of  France,  Massillon, 
with  equal  justice,  may  represent  the  flower  of 
the  Papal  ministry.  As  pulpit  orators,  it  might 
be  difficult  to  decide  which  of  these  eminent 
divines  should  bear  the  palm.  Differing  some- 
what in  their  mental  character,  they  yet  pos- 
sessed some  traits  in  common.  They  were 
both  extremely  sensitive  in  their  nervous 
structure.  They  were  wholly  absorbed  in  the 
duties  of  their  profession.  Both  seemed  obliv- 
ious of  self,  and  intent  only  on  the  promotion 
of  religion  and  the  salvation  of  souls.  They 
rose  above  the  fear  of  man,  and  sought  only  to 
approve  themselves  in  the  sight  of  God.  But 
Saurin  was  an  exile,  while  Massillon  was  the 
court  preacher,  and  for  a  time  the  admired  of 
all  admirers.  Louis  XIV.  expelled  Saurin 
from  the  kingdom,  but  sat  down  at  the  feet  of 
Massillon,  declaring,  with  truth  no  doubt,  that 
"while  other  preachers  made  him  think  highly 
of  their  characters,  Massillon  sent  him  away 
dissatisfied  with  his  own.11     What  a  pity  that 


JOHN  BAPTIST  MASSILLON.  205 

his  dissatisfaction  never  ripened  into  peni- 
tence !  The  convenient  season  with  him,  as 
with  another  tyrant,  never  seemed  to  arrive. 

Massillon  was  of  lowly  origin.  "The  ob- 
scurity of  his  birth,"  says  D'Alembert,  ''should 
be  the  first  topic  of  his  praise ;  and  it  may  be 
said  of  him,  as  of  that  illustrious  Koman  who 
owed  nothing  to  his  ancestors  :  He  was  the 
son  of  himself  alone."  He  entered,  at  the  age 
of  seventeen,  into  the  oratory,  to  prepare  him- 
self for  the  high  and  sacred  duties  of  the  most 
noble  of  professions.  It  was  soon  evident  to 
his  teachers  that  his  talents  pointed  him  out  as 
a  great  preacher,  and  they  predicted  for  him 
a  celebrity  which  his  subsequent  career  not 
only  realized,  but  exceeded.  By  nature  ex- 
cessively modest — by  grace  more  than  modest, 
truly  and  evangelically  humble,  he  shrunk 
from  the  notoriety  to  which  his  brilliant  tal- 
ents necessarily  exposed  him.  Alarmed  at  his 
own  popularity,  and  feeling  within  himself  the 
suggestions  of  vanity,  he  determined,  as  he 
said,  "to  escape  from  the  demon  of  pride." 
Accordingly  he  buried  himself  in  the  abbey 
of  Sept  Fons,  taking  the  habit  and  following 
out  all  the  rigid  austerities  of  the  brethren  of 
La  Trappe. 


206  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

A  circumstance,  seemingly  fortuitous,  called 
him  out  of  this  monkish  solitude,  and  obliged 
him  to  return  to  the  great  theatre  of  Parisian 
life.  The  cardinal  of  Noailles,  who  had  dis- 
covered this  gem  buried  in  the  distant  abbey, 
determined  to  bring  it  out  and  polish  it  for 
a  higher  destiny.  He  summoned  Massillon 
to  come  to  him,  and  placing  him  in  the  Semi- 
nary of  St.  Magloire  at  Paris,  he  exhorted  him 
to  cultivate  pulpit  eloquence.  Ever  obedient 
to  his  superiors,  Massillon  took  this  course. 
Here  he  perfected  himself  in  the  divine  art, 
and  when  he  resumed  the  pulpit,  his  very  first 
sermons  electrified  the  hearers  and  eclipsed  all 
the  most  popular  preachers  of  that  day. 

Massillon  struck  out  for  himself  a  new  path. 
He  determined  not  to  preach  according  to  the 
then  reigning  taste  of  the  French  pulpit,  The 
preachers  most  popular  and  of  the  greatest 
celebrity,  such  as  Bourdaloue  and  Bossuet,  had 
dealt  in  sacred  logic  and  profound  research, 
giving  food  to  the  intellect,  rather  than  feeling 
to  the  heart.  Massillon  determined  at  once  to 
storm  the  citadel.  He  assumed  that  men 
needed  to  have  the  conscience  roused,  rather 
than  the  reason  convinced ;  that  their  innate 
sense  of  religious  obligation  needed  stirring  to 


JOHN  BAPTIST  MASSILLON.  207 

a  greater  power  of  self-condemnation.  In  one 
word,  that  repentance,  true  sorrow  for  sin,  was 
the  first  step  in  a  religious  life.  He  saw  in  all 
around  hiin,  from  the  monarch  to  the  meanest 
of  his  subjects,  the  entire  reign  of  pride  and 
sensuality.  "What  men  needed  was  conviction 
of  sin,  conversion  of  heart.  These  emotions 
could  be  produced,  not  by  appeals  to  the  in- 
tellect, but  by  carrying  the  light  of  G-od's  sim- 
ple truth  into  the  dark  and  disordered  soul. 
He  determined  therefore  to  explore  and  ana- 
lyze the  motives,  the  passions,  and  the  princi- 
ples of  human  nature,  and  show  how  at  vari- 
ance they  were  with  the  law  of  God  and  the 
purity  of  the  gospel.  He  determined  also  to 
draw  men  to  the  cross,  and  make  them  see 
that,  while  they  might  well  despair  of  salva- 
tion in  view  of  their  own  depraved  character 
and  conduct,  yet,  by  faith  in  the  great  Sacri- 
fice, there  was  hope  for  even  the  chief  of  sin- 
ners. 

Such  were  the  views  of  this  great  preacher, 
and  in  carrying  them  out,  all  Paris  seemed  to 
recognize  their  truth  and  their  efficiency. 
Such  was  the  plan  of  Massillon,  and  he  exe- 
cuted it  like  one  who  had  conceived  it ;  that 
is,  like  a  master.     He  excels  in  that  part  of 


208  ELOQUENT  PREACHEKS. 

oratory  which  may  stand  instead  of  all  the 
rest — that  eloquence  which  goes  right  to  the 
soul,  but  which  agitates  without  confounding, 
appalls  without  crushing,  penetrates  without 
lacerating  it.  He  goes  to  the  bottom  of  the 
heart  in  search  of  those  hidden  folds  in  which 
the  passions  are  enwrapped,  those  secret  soph- 
isms which  they  so  artfully  employ  to  blind 
and  seduce  us. 

Dealing  thus  in  the  deep  principles  and 
passions  which  sway  the  universal  heart,  Mas- 
sillon  was  listened  to  with  interest  by  all 
classes.  The  rich  and  the  poor,  the  nobility 
and  the  plebeian,  all  recognized  his  power,  as 
from  the  sacred  desk  he  showed  them  their 
corruption  of  heart  and  life,  the  obligation  of 
repentance,  and  pointed  out  to  them  the  cross, 
the  only  hope  which  God  had  set  before  them. 
It  was  this  kind  of  preaching  which  called  to- 
gether such  crowds,  and  which,  delivered  in 
tones  of  thrilling  eloquence,  not  unmingled 
with  tears,  drew  them  at  times  from  their 
seats,  and  obliged  them  to  ask  the  great  ques- 
tion, What  must  we  do  to  be  saved  ? 

Preaching  on  the  occasion  of  the  death  of 
the  Dauphin,  the  introduction  of  his  discourse 
was  said  to  be  the  most  impressive  and  affect- 


JOHN  BAPTIST  MASSILLON.  209 

ing  ever .  heard  on  a  similar  occasion.  The 
cathedral  was  hung  in  black  and  lighted  dimly 
by  tapers.  At  the  foot  of  the  high  altar  lay, 
enshrouded  in  funeral  pomp,  the  smitten  hope 
of  the  empire.  The  triumph  of  death  could 
not  have  been  more  complete.  Ascending  the 
pulpit  with  solemn  air,  and  surveying  in  si- 
lence the  mortal  remains  of  the  Dauphin,  he 
broke  the  awful  stillness  with  these  words: 
"There  is  none  great  but  God."  At  the  in- 
stant, the  whole  audience  in  tears  arose  and 
bowed  towards  the  altar. 

As  court  preacher,  Massillon  had  a  difficult 
and  delicate  task  to  perform.  He  must  min- 
gle respect  with  fidelity.  Without  flattering 
the  vanity,  he  must  rebuke  the  vices  of  roy- 
alty. With  a  due  regard  to  forms,  he  must 
not  withhold  the  stern  mandates  of  Jehovah. 
Making  allowance  for  human  weakness  and 
difference  of  position,  he  must  deliver  God's 
commands  to  the  high  as  well  as  to  the  low. 
How  he  discharged  this  duty  may  be  known 
by  what  D'Alembert  has  said  of  the  exordium 
of  his  first  discourse  before  Louis  XIV.,  who 
was  then  in  the  zenith  of  his  power  and  glory, 
and  admired  by  all  Europe,  adored  by  his 
subjects,  intoxicated  with  adulation   and  sati- 


210  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

#     ated  with  homage.    Massillon  took  for  his  text 


lc*v 


a  passage  of  Scripture  apparently  least  applica- 
ble to  such  a  prince:  "Blessed  are  they  that 
mourn."  "  Sire,"  said  he,  "  if  the  world  were 
here  speaking  of  your  majesty,  it  would  not 
address  you  with,  Blessed  are  they  that  mourn. 
Blessed,  would  it  say,  the  prince  who  never 
fought  but  to  conquer ;  who  has  filled  the  uni- 
verse with  his  name  ;  who,  in  the  course  of  a 
long  and  flourishing  reign,  has  enjoyed  with 
splendor  all  that  men  admire — the  greatness 
of  his  conquests,  the  love  of  his  people,  the 
esteem  of  his  enemies,  the  wisdom  of  his  laws. 
But,  sire,  the  gospel  speaks  not  as  the  world 
speaks." 

Massillon's  manner  was  comparatively  qui- 
et, though  intensely  earnest  and  sympathetic. 
He  made  a  few  gestures,  and  usually  spoke 
from  memory.  But  his  whole  soul  was  deeply 
moved  by  the  lofty  sentiments  or  the  faithful 
warnings  which  he  uttered;  and  communicat- 
ing his  own  emotions  to  his  hearers,  he  wielded 
their  passions  at  his  will,  awakening  terrible 
convictions,  or  drawing  from  eyes  unaccus- 
tomed to  weep  the  tears  of  contrition.  His 
whole  air  and  manner,  it  is  said,  impressed  the 
beholder  with  the  idea  of  great  personal  holi- 


JOHN  BAPTIST  MASSILLON.  211 

ness,  and  prepared  the  way  for  that  candid  and 
courteous  bearing  which  men  never  fail  to  give 
to  the  upright  and  the  sincere.  "His  action," 
remarks  D'Alembert,  "was  perfectly  suited  to 
his  species  of  eloquence.  On  entering  the  pul- 
pit, he  appeared  thoroughly  penetratecf  with 
.the  truths  he  was  about  to  utter.  With  eyes 
declined,  a  modest  and  collected  air,  animat- 
ing the  whole  discourse  with  a  voice  of  sensi- 
bility, he  diffused  over  the  audience  the  relig- 
ious emotion  which  his  own  exterior  proclaim- 
ed, and  caused  himself  to  be  listened  to  with 
that  profound  silence  by  which  eloquence  is 
better  praised  than  by  the  loudest  applauses." 
Modest  and  humble  as  Massillon  was,  obliv- 
ious of  self,  and  seemingly  almost  unconscious 
wherein  his  great  power  as  an  orator  consisted, 
yet  his  popularity  drew  upon  him  the  usual 
venom  of  disappointed  rivals.  Efforts  were 
made  to  cast  a  shade  upon  his  character,  to 
banish  him  from  the  metropolis,  and  to  bury 
him  in  the  obscurity  of  a  distant  bishopric. 
Unjust  as  this  treatment  was,  he  was  not  un- 
willing to  retire  from  the  glare  and  grandeur 
of  Parisian  life,  and  he  found  more  real  happi- 
ness in  feeding  his  humble  flock  at  Clermont, 
than  in  listening  to  the  praises  of  congregated 


212  ELOQUENT    PEEACHERS. 

thousands  at  Notre  Dame.  Never  was  there* 
a  parochial  charge  where  greater  wisdom  and 
beneficence  were  exhibited  on  the  part  of  the 
incumbent,  or  where  greater  reverence  and 
gratitude  were  felt  and  manifested  on  the  part 
of  the  parishioners.  "His  diocese,"  says  his 
biographer,  "preserves  the  remembrance  of 
his  deeds  after  thirty  years,  and  his  memory 
is  daily  honored  with  the  most  eloquent  of 
funeral  orations — those  of  the  tears  of  a  hun- 
dred thousand  distressed  objects.  During  his 
lifetime  he  had  anticipated  this  testimony. 
When  he  appeared  in  the  streets  of  Clermont, 
the  people  prostrated  themselves  before  him, 
crying,  'Long  live  our  father!'" 

The  sermons  of  this  great  pulpit  orator  are 
read  even  now  with  great  delight.  Deeper 
revelations  of  the  human  heart,  or  warmer  ex- 
patiations  on  the  love  of  God,  can  be  found 
nowhere  else.  They  literally  glow  with  the 
combined  radiance  of  piety  and  of  genius.  We 
feel  their  author's  spirit  as  we  read.  Though 
transplanted  from  a  warm  and  genial,  because 
natural  bed,  to  a  colder  and  more  rigid  soil, 
yet  do  these  floral  beauties  retain  much  of  their 
gracefulness  and  their  perfume.  Massillon  is 
an  example  of  the  power  of  emotional  preach- 


JOHN  BAPTIST  MASSILLON.  213 

• 

ing.  He  dealt,  as  we  have  said,  with  the  heart. 
His  reasonings  were  less  to  illustrate  the  theory 
than  to  enforce  the  practice  of  religion.  He  as- 
sumed that,  while  the  judgment  and  conscience 
were  on  the  side  of  God  and  duty,  the  selfish 
and  sensual  passions  stood  out  against  their 
claims.  These  he  aimed  to  expose  and  batter 
down.  And  where  is  there  a  pulpit  orator  who 
had  greater  power  in  these  respects  ?  Let  his 
example  teach  others.  Instead  of  slow  ap- 
proaches to  the  resisting  mind  by  processes  of 
reasoning,  let  us  carry  the  convictions  of  the 
understanding  by  first  assailing  the  conscience 
and  the  heart.  Easier  far  is  it  to  bring  over 
the  judgment,  after  the  affections  are  moved, 
than  to  move  the  affections  by  first  convincing 
the  understanding.  Without  carrying  this  idea 
to  an  extreme,  we  do  think,  if  more  would 
preach  like  Massillon,  as  to  aim  and  object, 
even  though  not  as  eloquently  hurling  the  ar- 
rows of  truth  directly  at  the  heart,  than  like 
Barrow  or  Emmons  commending  religion  by 
the  beauty  of  its  theory  and  the  reasonableness 
of  its  claims,  we  should  soon  see  a  new  and 
deeper  impulse  flowing  from  the  pulpit,  and  a 
more  tender  and  yielding  acquiescence  in  those 
who  sit  beneath  its  teachings. 


214  #  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 


MARTIN  LUTHER. 

If  Wickliffe  was  the  morning  star  of  the 
Reformation,  Luther  was  its  sun — full-orbed 
and  glorious.  No  name  stands  higher  on  the 
heraldic  legends  of  the  past.  The  whole  Prot- 
estant world  pronounces  it  with  reverence. 
Even  his  enemies  concede  his  greatness,  while 
they  attempt  to  disparage  his  virtues.  But 
Luther  is  known  as  a  reformer  rather  than  as 
a  preacher ;  and  even  in  the  latter  capacity 
we  usually  imagine  him  fulminating  against 
the  dogmas  of  Rome,  rather  than  feeding  the 
flock  of  Christ.  But  we  do  him  injustice  by 
associating  him  so  entirely  with  the  church 
militant.  Never  was  there  a  more  powerful 
preacher,  never  one  more  eloquent  and  per- 
suasive. He  was  a  natural  orator.  We  re- 
member a  classical  maxim,  "  Poeta  nascitur, 
orator  fit;"  but  we  think  the  elements  which 
constitute  the  true  orator  are  as  dependent  on 
native  genius  as  is  the  inspiration  of  the  true 
poet.  In  both  cases  education  may  improve, 
but  cannot  create  the  character.  There  must 
be  light  and  heat,  knowledge  and  sensibility, 


I 


MAETIN  LUTHER.  215 

or  there  can  be  no  true  oratory.  The  soul 
that  kindles,  the  eye  that  flashes,  the  mind 
that  seizes  and  grasps  the  thought,  the  speech 
that  gives  that  thought  its  most  forcible  ex- 
pression, these  are  the  elements  of  oratory, 
secular  or  sacred,  and  these  Luther  had  in  an 
eminent  degree. 

"His  parents,"  says  Melancthon,  "took 
especial  care  in  their  daily  instructions  to 
educate  their  son  in  the  knowledge  and  fear  ot 
God,  and  in  a  sense  of  his  duty.  The  youth 
soon  displayed  great  talents,  and  particularly 
an  inclination  to  eloquence.  With  great  ease 
he  surpassed  his  school-fellows  in  copiousness 
of  language,  both  in  prose  and  verse;  and  if 
he  had  been  so  fortunate  as  to  have  met  with 
suitable  teachers,  his  great  capacity  would 
have  enabled  «feim  to  go  through  all  the 
sciences."  His  father  intended  him  for  the 
law,  but  Martin  preferred  the  cloister.  His 
deep  religious  feeling  sought  the  congenial  at- 
mosphere of  the  monastic  habit,  and  he  chose 
the  order  of  St.  Augustine,  as  marked  by  a 
higher  devotion  and  a  more  rigid  self-denial 
than  were  found  in  some  of  the  other  monas- 
teries. 

Not  satisfied   with   the   dialectics   of  the 


216  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

schools — Aristotle  and  Thomas  Aquinas — Lu- 
ther groped  around  the  musty  library  at  Erfurt 
until  his  hand  fell  upon  an  old  Latin  Bible. 
God  had  put  it  there  expressly  for  him.  His 
path  had  been  dark,  and  his  feet  had  stum- 
bled. Here  was  a  light  unto  his  feet  and  a 
lamp  unto  his  path.  He  seized  the  treasure, 
pressed  it  to  his  heart,  and  thenceforward  be- 
came the  champion  of  the  Reformation. 

But  educated  as  Luther  had  been  to  abso- 
lute submission  to  the  hierarchy,  his  first  move- 
ment was  simply  to  raise  his  own  spiritual 
temper  to  the  gospel  standard.  The  instru- 
ment must  be  fitted  for  the  work.  Terrible 
conflicts  with  his  own  heart  must  precede  the 
successful  attacks  upon  papal  corruptions.  He 
must  know  in  his  own  spul  what  was  needed. 
The  rotten  foundation  must  £ive  way  under 
him.  He  must  set  his  own  feet  firmly  on  the 
rock,  before  he  can  assail  and  demolish  the 
vain  subterfuges  of  popery!  This  experience 
he  gained  by  a  nearer  contact  with  Rome, 
visiting  the  headquarters  of  corruption,  and 
seeing  with  his  own  eyes  the  chambers  of  im- 
agery. Here  it  was,  ascending  on  his  knees 
the  "Scala  Santa,"  he  heard  a  voice  from  his 
Latin  Bible  saying,  "This  is  not  the  way  of 


MAKTIN  LUTHER.  217 

justification.  '  The  just  shall  live  by  faith.'  " 
He  trembled,  and  turned  his  eyes  upon  the 
cross.  Having  gained  light,  he  returned  to 
his  home  to  diffuse  it.  He  saw  into  the  delu- 
sions by  which  the  popular  mind  was  deceived 
and  the  souls  of  the  people  destroyed.  His 
war  upon  indulgences  broke  out  more  from 
hatred  of  error  than  from  opposition  to  Rome. 
He  was  still  a  sincere  Romanist,  so  far  as  papal 
authority  and  the  decrees  of  councils  were  con- 
cerned ;  but  when  Rome  undertook  to  endorse 
the  mission  of  Tetzel,  and  by  a  necessary  con- 
sequence to  put  down  all  who  inveighed  against 
the  sale  of  indulgences,  his  spirit  was  stirred 
within  him,  as  was  Paul's  in  vjew  of  the  Athe- 
nian idolatries.  Thenceforward  he  took  his 
stand  against  "the  mother  of  abominations." 

The  career  of  this  wonderful  man  has  been 
by  many  competent  and  by  some  very  elo- 
quent writers  minutely  described.  Indeed 
few  there  are  who  are  ignorant  of  the  events 
with  which  his  name  is  associated.  He  was 
an  acknowledged  instrument  of  God  in  the 
great  work  assigned  him.  Unconscious  in  the 
preparation,  he  was  so  in  the  inception,  the 
progress*  and  the  completion.  But  the  quali- 
ties of  the  man  were  essential  to  the  prosecu- 

Eloquent  Preaehem.  1 0 


218  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

tion  of  the  work.  With  less  iron  vigor  he 
would  have  fainted,  with  less  courage  he  would 
have  succumbed,  with  less  conscientiousness 
he  would  have  compromised.  His  frame  and 
figure  were  almost  leonine.  His  piercing  eye,1 
his  voice,  sweet  when  low,  but  when  raised  to 
high,  impassioned  utterances,  breaking  in  thun- 
der peals,  gave  one  the  idea  of  a  sort  of  pulpit 
Jupiter.  Maimbourg  the  Jesuit  describes  him 
as  "possessing  a  quick  and  penetrating  genius, 
remarkably  strong  and  healthy,  with  a  san- 
guine bilious  temperament.  His  eyes  were 
piercing  and  full  of  fire,  his  voice  sweet  but 
vehement  when  once  fairly  raised.  He  had  a 
stern  countenance,  and  though  most  intrepid 
and  high  spirited,  he  could  assume  the  appear- 
ance of  modesty  and  humility  whenever  he 
pleased,  which,  however,  was  not  often  the 
case."  Yarillas,  a  celebrated  French  histo- 
rian, speaks  of  Luther  as  follows:  "This  Au- 
gustine monk  united  in  his  single  person  all 
the  good  and  all  the  bad  qualities  of  the  hie- 
rarchy of  his  time.  To  robustness,  health,  and 
industry  of  a  German,  nature  seems  to  have 
added  the  spirit  and  vivacity  of  an  Italian. 
Nobody  exceeded  him  in  philosophy  £nd  scho- 
lastic theology,  nobody  equalled  him  in  the 


MARTIN  LUTHER.  219 

art  of  speaking.  He  was  a  most  perfect  mas- 
ter of  eloquence.  He  had  completely  discov- 
ered where  lay  the  strength  or  the  weakness 
of  the  human  mind,  and  accordingly  he  knew 
how  to  render  his  attacks  successful.  How- 
ever various  and  discordant  might  be  the  pas- 
sions of  his  audience,  he  could  manage  them  to 
his  own  purposes,  for  he  presently  saw  the 
ground  on  which  they  stood ;  and  even  if  the 
subject  was  too  difficult  for  much  argument,  he 
carried  his  point  by  popular  illustration  and 
the  use  of  figures.  In  ordinary  conversations 
he  displayed  the  same  power  over  the  affec- 
tions which  he  had  so  often  demonstrated  in 
the  professional  chair  and  the  pulpit.  No 
man,  either  of  his  own  time  or  since,  spoke  or 
wrote  the  German  language,  or  understood  its 
niceties  better  than  Luther.  Often,  when  he 
had  made  his  first  impression  by  bold  strokes 
of  eloquence,  or  by  a  bewitching  pleasantry  of 
conversation,  he  completed  his  triumphs  by 
the  eloquence  of  his  G-erman  style." 

Such  is  the  account  of  Luther  by  the  ene- 
mies of  the  Reformation ;  and  if  to  these  con- 
cessions, there  be  added  the  usual  aspersions 
on  his  character',  we  need  not  disbelieve  the 
former,  because  we  may  reasonably  suspect 


220  ELOQUENT  PBEACHEBS. 

the  motives  of  the  latter.  From  all  that  ap- 
pears then,  Luther  was  mighty  in  word  as  well 
as  in  deed.  He  possessed  the  elements  of 
greatness,  whether  we  regard  his  character 
simply,  or  what  can  hardly  be  separated  from 
his  character,  his  intellectual  -vigor,  and  his 
profound  learning.  In  his  mind  there  was  an 
adaptation  to  the  very  genius  of  his,  native 
language.  Bold,  terse,  expressive,  simple,  it 
needed  for  its  highest  development  just  such 
an  intellect,  combined  with  just  such  a  high 
impassioned  soul,  and  it  never  exhibited  its 
^othic  grandeur  before  or  since  on  a  more 
massive  foundation. 

We  entirely  mistake  if  we  view  Luther  in 
the  light  simply  of  a  great  controvertist,  as- 
sailing with  ponderous  logic  the  ramparts  of 
the  Romish  hierarchy.  True,  he  was  from 
necessity  pushed  into  the  front  rank,  and  be- 
came the  rallying  point  of  the  great  Protestant 
cause  ;  but  he  was,  nevertheless,  a  man  of  the 
people.  He  excelled  not  more  in  silencing  the 
proud  advocates  of  the  papacy  than  in  his 
sway  over  the  popular  heart.  If  the  one  had 
reason  to  fear  him,  the  other  had  no  less  rea- 
son to  admire  and  love  him.  He  was  the  man 
for  the  masses.    Crowding  the  cathedrals  where 


MARTIN  LUTHER.  221 

he  preached,  they  hung  upon  his  lips  in  breath- 
less silence,  and  received  his  appeals  as  the 
soldiers  of  an  army  receive  the  call  of  their 
favorite  general  to  arms.  Every  man  stood 
ready  to  follow  Luther  to  victory  or  to  the 
stake.  Since  the  apostle  Paul's  day  never 
had  the  cause  of  truth  a  more  fearless  or  a 
more  eloquent  champion.  His  journey  to 
Worms,  where  awaited  him  in  state  grandeur 
the  emperor  and  Rome's  haughty  nuncio,  was 
that  of  a  conqueror  rather  than  of  a  culprit. 
It  was  paved,  every  step  of  it,  with  popular 
benedictions.  The  people  seemed  almost  ready 
to  kiss  the  very  ground  on  which  he  trod. 
And  while  at  Worms,  Luthejr  was  a  sort  of 
sovereign.  His  hotel  was  thronged  with  ad- 
miring crowds,  and  the  whole  heart  of  Ger- 
many pulsated  with  sympathy  in  his  behalf. 
It  would  be  hard  to  find  in  history  a  sublimer 
scene  than  was  witnessed  when  the  Augustine 
monk,  with  the  banner  of  Frederick  the- Wise 
floating  over  his  head,  appeared  in  that  Diet, 
to  vindicate  God's  truth  against  the  most  sub- 
tle and  powerful  imposture  that  the  world  has 
ever  seen.  Thus  it  was  when  Paul  in  chains 
appeared  before  Agrippa  and  Felix,  or  when 
Huss  stood  up  for  Christ,  with  the  flames  of 


222  ELOQUENT    PKEACHEKS. 

martyrdom  roaring  in  his  ears.  Here  was 
the  young  emperor,  canopied  in  crimson,  with 
power  to  bind  or  to  loose ;  and  here  were  the 
representatives  of  Rome,  vieing  in  grandeur 
with  Charles  himself,  and  overawing  even  him 
with  the  slumbering  thunders  of  the  Vatican. 
Here  also  were  gathered  the  nobles  of  the  em- 
pire, with  sympathies  for  or  against  the  accus- 
ed, while  crowds  of  the  excited  populace  were 
thronging  the  avenues  of  the  place,  and  await- 
ing in  breathless  anxiety  the  issue  of  the  con- 
troversy. Luther  was  calm.  God  was  his 
refuge  and  strength.  He  knew  the  ground  on 
which  he  stood.  He  knew  the  weakness  of 
his  adversaries-^-weak,  not  in  talents,  but  in 
the  cause  which  they  supported.  We  cannot 
omit  a  few  sentences  of  his  memorable  speech. 
It  shows  the  man.  It  was  delivered  first  in 
German,  afterwards  in  Latin.  "I  stand  here 
in  obedience  to  ihe  commands  of.  his  most 
serene  imperial  majesty  and  the  most  illus- 
trious princes,  and  I  earnestly  entreat  them 
that  they  would  deign  to  listen  to  this  cause 
with  clemency.  It  will  appear,  I  trust,  to  be 
the  cause  of  truth  and  justice  ;  and  therefore  if, 
through  ignorance,  I  should  fail  to  give  proper 
titles  to  each  of  the  dignified  personages  who 


MAETIN  LUTHER.  223 

hear  me,  or  if  in  any  other  respect  I  should 
show  myself  defective  in  politeness,  they  will 
be  pleased  to  accept  my  apology  with  candor. 
I  have  not  been  accustomed  to  the  refinements 
of  the  court,  but  to  the  cloisters  of  the  monas- 
tery ;  nor  of  myself  have  I  any  thing  further 
to  say,  than  that  hitherto  I  have  read  lectures 
and  composed  books  with  that  simplicity  of 
mind  which  only  regards  the  glory  of  God  and 
the  instruction  of  mankind." 

.  Such  are  the  introductory  words  of  an  ad- 
dress which  consumed  about  two  hours  in  the 
delivery.  It  produced  an  overwhelming  im- 
pression. The  papal  legate  turned  pale  under 
it.  The  pliant  and  politic  Charles  wrote  out 
his  verdict  against  it;  but  all  Germany  said 
Amen  to  it.  It  was  the  triumph  of  reason  and 
of  eloquence.  The  very  foundations  of  Rome 
shook  under  it.  Had  not  Frederick  secured 
the  promise  of  safe  conduct  to  Luther,  he 
would  no  doubt  have  been  disposed  of  by  the 
vengeful  and  mortified  delegates  of  the  hie- 
rarchy. But  God  was  his  refuge,  and  covered 
his  head  in  the  day  of  battle. 

We  have  alluded  to  the  scene  at  Worms 
partly  to  show  Luther's  power  as  an  orator 
and  his  courage  as  a  Christian  hero.     But  it 


224  ELOQUENT  PEEACHEES. 

would  not  be  doing  justice  to  this  good  man  if 
we  merged  his  qualities  as  a  preacher  in  his 
celebrity  as  a  reformer.  "His  heart,"  says 
Milner,  "was  not  in  these  noisy  and  conten- 
tious scenes.  Instruction  of  youth  in  divinity 
and  preaching  the  gospel  of  Christ  he  consid- 
ered as  his  proper  business.  He  used  to  la- 
ment the  peculiar  infelicity  of  the  age,  by 
which  he  was  obliged  to  waste  in  controver- 
sies so  many  hours  that  might  have  been  bet- 
ter employed  in  guiding  souls  into  the  way  of 
salvation." 

This  shows  on  what  his  heart  was  set.  He 
loved  the  pulpit  more  than  the  controversial 
platform,  and  was  happier  in  dispensing  the 
word  than  in  defeating  his  theological  oppo- 
nents. How  beautifully  he  commences  one  of 
his  sermons.  It  was  on  his  return  to  his  flock 
at  Wittemburg.  "My  presence  among  my 
people  is  absolutely  necessary.  I  must  live 
with  them ;  I  must  talk  to  them ;  I  must  hear 
them  speak ;  I  must  guide  them,  and  do  them 
all  the  good  I  can.  They  are  my  children  in 
Christ,  and  my  conscience  will  not  permit  me 
to  be  absent  from  them  any  longer."  Having 
made  this  apology  to  the  Elector  for  his  sudden 
departure  from  Wartburg,  he  begins  his  dis- 


MAETIN  LUTHEE.  225 

course  as  follows:  "I  am  allowed  to  sound  the 
gospel  in  your  ears  once  more.-  By  and  by 
death  will  come,  and  then  we  can  do  one  an- 
other no  good.  How  necessary  therefore  is  it, 
that  every  individual  should  be  furnished  with 
the  principles  which  are  to  support  him  in  that 
awful  hour.  These  principles  are  the  great  doc- 
trines of  Christianity,  and  by  treasuring  them 
up  in  your  memories,  you  will  act  like  wise 
men,  and  be  fortified  against  the  attacks  of  the 
enemy."  He  then  gives  a  condensed  view  of 
the  great  doctrines  of  the  gospel,  and  con- 
cludes with  these  noble  sentiments:  "This 
same  word  of  Grod  has  given  such  a  blow  to 
papal  despotism  as  not  one  of  the  German 
princes — not  even  the  emperor  himself — could 
have  done.  It  is  not  /;  I  repeat  it,  it  is  the 
divine  word  which  has  done  every  thing. 
Had  it  been  right  to  aim  at  a  reform  by  vio- 
lence and  tumults,  it  would  have  been  easy 
for  me  to  deluge  Germany  with  blood.  Nay, 
had  I  been  in  the  least  inclined  to  promote 
sedition,  it  was  in  my  power  when  I  was  at 
Worms  to  endanger  the  safety  of  even  the* 
emperor  himself.  The  devil  smiles  in  secret 
when  men  pretend  to  support  religion  by  sedi- 
tious tumults  ;  but  he  is  cut  to  the  heart  when 

10* 


226  ELOQUENT  PEEAOHEES. 

he  sees  them,  in  faith  and  patience,  rely  on 
the  written  word." 

How  admirable  are  such  sentiments,  show- 
ing not  only  that  Luther  was  the  farthest  from 
fanaticism,  but  that  he  was  oblivious  of  self. 
His  whole  soul  was  swallowed  up  in  the  pro- 
motion of  Christ's  kingdom.  To  this  sublime 
end  he  devoted  all  his  talents,  his  zeal,  and 
his  learning.  To  accomplish  it  he  hazarded 
his  reputation  and  his  life — confronting  the 
imperial  will  and  the  indomitable  hatred  of 
Rome.  He  gave  his  days  and  nights  to  study, 
translating  the  whole  Bible  into  German,  and 
leaving  it  as  the  most  precious  legacy  to  his 
countrymen.  He  was  especially  the  favorite 
of  the  people.  His  stormy,  stirring,  ofttimes 
overwhelming  eloquence  carried  captive  every 
heart,  and  made  him  the  most  beloved,  as  he 
was  the  most  popular  preacher  in  Germany. 
Like  Peter  in  ardor,  like  Paul  in  zeal  and 
learning,  and  like  John  in  the  overflowing  af- 
fection of  his  Christian  heart,  he  seemed  to 
combine  in  his  character  the  virtues  of  these 
great  leaders  of  primitive  Christianity.  But 
we  claim  not  for  him  the  virtues  without  the 
weaknesses  of  those  sainted  men.  We  admit 
that,  he  was  irritable — as  men  of  such  strong 


MAKTIN  LUTHEK.  227 

traits  of  character  are  apt  to  be — also  perhaps 
that  he  indulged  too  much  his  propensity  to 
humor;  yet  if  no  other  delinquency  can  be 
charged  upon  him,  we  think  that  even  his 
most  virtuous  censors  can  scarcely  be  justified 
in  casting  the  first  stone.  For  ourselves,  we 
admire*  that  sacred  hilarity  in  Luther,  lighting 
up  the  cloister,  and  shedding  a  radiance  around 
the  social  conclave.  With  work  such  as  he 
had  to  do,  carrying  in  his  troubled,  anxious 
bosom  a  mountain  weight  of  care  and  anxiety, 
it  was  merciful,  as  it  was  needful,  that  he 
should  be  endowed  with  the  sunshine  of  a 
mirthful  and  buoyant  spirit.  Irritable  !  Who 
could  have  been  composed  when  Herods  were 
mocking  and  Pharisees  were  scorning,  and 
even  professed  friends  were  calling  upon  him 
to  save  himself  and  let  the  truth  go  ?  We  par- 
don his  ebullitions,  knowing  that  for  the  most 
part  they  were  a  sort  of  protest  against  cow- 
ardice and  selfish  cunning.  But  in  Luther  we 
discover,  as  the  moral  battle  goes  on,  more 
faith  and  less  human  feeling,  more  calm  confi- 
dence and  less  perturbation.  At  length  we 
see  the  stormy  passions  subsiding  into  a  gen- 
tle, childlike  meekness  and  patience,  that  char- 
acterized him  under  the  greatest  bodily  agony, 


228  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

until  death  closed  the  scene  and  the  suffering. 
He  had  fought  the  good  fight,  and  finished  his 
course.  Farewell,  brave  soldier  of  the  cross. 
The  victories  of  truth  over  error,  in  which 
thou  didst  bear  so  conspicuous  a  part,  are  re- 
sounding on  our  harps  still ;  and  far  distant  be 
the  day  when  they  shall  cease  to  awaken  our 
gratitude,  or  to  employ,  our  songs. 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  229 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL. 

To  close  the  catalogue  of  eloquent  divines 
with  a  venerated  apostle  may  seem  at  first 
view  like  placing  a  ladder  between  earth  and 
heaven.  But  we  do  not  propose  to  bring  down 
the  inspired  teacher  to  a  level  with  the  unin- 
spired. We  only  wish  to  give  the  character- 
istics of  that  power  as  a  preacher,  which  distin- 
guished him  even  from  his  inspired  colaborers ; 
and  which,  together  with  his  high  moral  qual- 
ities, render  him  for  all  time  the  great  exem- 
plar of  the  Christian  ministry.  In  this  view, 
we  think  Saint  Paul  ought  to  close  and  crown 
the  honored  list. 

Though  an  inspired  apostle,  Paul's  power 
as  a  preacher  was  intimately  connected  with 
the  natural  and  cultivated  qualities  of  his  mind 
and  heart.  "In  a  great  house,  there  are  ves- 
sels of  wood  and  of  stone,"  which  have  their 
uses.  "There  are  also  vessels  of  gold  and  of 
silver,"  fitted  for  a  higher  ministration.  Paul 
was  one  of  the  latter. 

He  was  born  and  nursed  in  one  of  the  most 
polished  cities  of  the  empire.     Thence,  at  an 


230  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

early  age,  he  was  sent  to  the  metropolis  of  the 
Jews,  where  the  schools  of  the  prophets  offered 
the  best  advantages  for  ecclesiastical  culture. 
His  master  was  the  most  renowned  of  the  rab- 
bins. At  his  feet  he  became  versed  in  all  the 
Hebrew  lore  which  ages  had  accumulated,  and 
in  all  the  traditions  which  long  centuries  had 
transmitted.  The  scholar  was  worthy  of  the 
master.  His  original  endowments  were  of  the 
highest  order,  combining  in  one  mind  the  va- 
ried attributes  which  are  usually  distributed 
among  many. 

The  conversion  of  this  eminent  man  was 
one  of  the  great  events  in  the  early  history  of 
Christianity.  Such  a  mind  as  his,  such  a  tem- 
perament, such  relations  as  he  sustained  to 
the  Roman  government  and  to  the  Jewish  re- 
ligion— his  age,  his  energy,  his  indomitable 
spirit,  all  conspire  to  stamp  his  conversion  as 
the  great  event  of  primitive  times.  Not  only 
was  that  age  interested  and  influenced,  but  all 
ages;  not  only  the  world  as  it  then  was,  but 
the  world  now  and  for  ever.  Such  an  example 
lives.  Such  writings  live.  Such  a  spirit  lives. 
They  can  never  die — never. 

The  persecution  which  drove  the  disciples 
out  of  Jerusalem  poured  the  light  of  the  gospel 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  231 

upon  the  isles  of  the  Levant  and  upon  the 
cities  of  Asia  Minor.  Antioch  became  the 
centre  of  Christian  influence ;  so  that,  if  Judea 
was  the  birthplace  of  Christianity,  Antioch 
may  be  called  its  cradle.  Here  the  church 
entrenched  itself  under  the  labors  of  Paul  and 
Barnabas.  The  sacred  name  of  its  founder 
was  written  on  it  indelibly.  The  disciples 
were  called  Christians  first  at  Antioch.  We 
will  not  stop  to  inquire  by  whom  this  name 
was  suggested ;  whether  by  enemies  as  a  term 
of  reproach,  or  by  friends  as  the  highest  title 
of  honor;  but  we  hold  in  sweet  remembrance 
a  city  where  the  banner  bearing  on  it  that  glo- 
rious name  was  first  unfurled,  the  sure  pledge 
of  strength  to  suffer  and  strength  to  conquer. 

From  this  moral  citadel  Paul  went  forth 
on  his  first  great  mission  as  a  preacher  to  the 
Gentiles.  He  plunged  at  once  into  the  very 
centre  of  heathenish  corruptions.  He  struck 
at  "wickedness  in  high  places."  Cyprus,  his 
first  field,  was  famed  for  its  sensuality  and  de- 
bauchery. Here  the  world-renowned  goddess 
of  beauty  had  her  shrines,  and  living  men  were 
sacrificed  annually  to  her  imaginary  charms. 
Hellish  arts  and  incantations  also  were  here 
practised.     It  was  a  bold  stroke  to  put  the  gos- 


232  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

pel  into  contact  with  such  a  population.  But 
the  Christian  orator  hesitated  not  ■  and  see  how 
he  triumphed.  Under  his  preaching  the  gov- 
ernor himself  became  a  convert. 

At  Lystra,  a  city  of  Lycaonia,  an  event 
occurred  which  brought  to  view  Paul's  distin- 
guished talents  as  a  sacred  orator.  The  inhab- 
itants, witnessing  a  remarkable  miracle  wrought 
by  the  hands  of  the  apostles,  were  impressed 
with  the  idea  that  the  gods  had  come  down  to 
them  in  the  shape  of  men.  They  accordingly 
proceeded  to  tender  them  divine  honors.  Bar- 
nabas they  called  Jupiter ;  but  Paul,  being  the 
chief  speaker,  the  orator  of  the  occasion,  they 
called  Mercurius,  or  the  god  of  eloquence. 
What  higher  compliment  could  have  been  giv- 
en to  Paul's  oratorical  powers? 

This  great  preacher,  after  covering  with 
his  labors  the  principal  cities  of  Asia,  reached 
at  length  the  port  of  Troas,  and,  cast  an  eye 
across  the  iEgean  sea  to  the  shores  of  Europe. 
He  heard  from  thence  a  call  to  come  over  and 
shed  on  the  classic  soil  of  Greece  the  light  of 
the  gospel.  Her  philosophers  had  taught  her 
lessons  of  human  wisdom.  Her  sculptors  had 
filled  her  cities  with  temples  and  altars  and 
statues,  until  the  marble  could  be  moulded  into 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  233 

no  new  forms  of  grandeur  or  of  beauty.  She 
had  her  poets,  her  warriors,  and  her  sages. 
The  tramp  of  her  legions  had  made  the  earth 
to  tremble ;  but  she  worshipped  an  ' '  unknown 
God."  That  "unknown  God"  Paul  longed  to 
declare  unto  them,  under  the  forms  and  doc- 
trines of  the  gospel.  Philippi  and  Corinth 
and  Athens  with  all  their  grandeur  lay  bur- 
ied in  the  midnight  of  superstition.  To  these 
proud  cities,  corrupt  and  licentious  as  they 
were  proud,  the  humble  preacher  of  the  cross 
makes  his  way.  He  carries  with  him  only 
one  theme — the  cross.  All  his  eloquence  is  to 
take  its  inspiration  from  this.  All  his  hope  of 
success  is  centred  here.  "The  gospel  is  the 
power  of  God  unto  salvation."  This  grand 
idea  filled  his  soul,  and  made  him  fear  no  op- 
position and  feel  no  solicitude. 

In  the  cities  of  Philippi  and  Corinth,  Thes- 
salonica  and  Berea — indeed  everywhere,  was 
soon  heard  the  note  of  gospel  triumph  rising 
above  that  of  heathenish  opposition.  Perse- 
cuted the  preacher  was,  but  his  appeals  and 
reasonings  found  their  way  into  the  hearts  of 
thousands,  and  churches  sprung  up  to  testify 
to  the  truth  of  his  doctrine  and  to  the  con- 
vincing eloquence  with  which  it  was  enforced. 


234:  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

Without  derogating  from  the  divine  power 
which  made  Paul's  preaching  thus  effective  in 
the  pulling  down  of  these  strong-holds  of  wick- 
edness, we  may  assert  that  that  power  was  not 
the#  less  illustrious  because  operating  through 
so  fine  a  medium.  God  chooses  his  own  instru- 
ments to  do  his  own  work.  In  this  case,  there 
was  between  the  workman  and  the  work  a 
beautiful  and  admirable  consistency.  The 
shaft  was  polished  by  a  divine  hand  before  it 
was  sped.  The  philosophy  of  the  heathen 
sages  was  to  be  assailed,  and  it  pleased  God 
to  commit  the  moral  warfare  to  a  well-drilled 
soldier.  The  popular  superstition,  enshrining 
itself  in  a  thousand  forms  of  artistic  beauty — 
in  temples,  in  altars,  in  statues — crowning  ev- 
ery hill-top,  haunting  every  stream  and  grove, 
obtruding  itself  even  into  the  sacredness  of 
domestic  life:  this  superstition,  having  such 
deep  foundations,  was  to  be  overthrown.  The 
iconoclast  must  have  not  'only  a  strong  arm, 
but  a  heaven-inspired  elocution.  He  must  be 
a  man  who  had  studied  the  origin  and  the  aim 
and  the  debasing  qualities  of  this  idolatry. 
Such  was  Paul;  and  in  choosing  him  as  the 
agent,  under  a  divine  inspiration,  to  accom- 
plish this  mighty  work,  God  exalted  his  wis- 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  235 

dom  without  the  least  detriment  to  the  excel- 
lency of  his  power. 

PAUL  AT  ATHENS. 

In  order  to  a  correct  estimate  of  this  great 
evangelist — to  understand  the  qualities  of  his 
eloquence — it  will  be  necessary  to  view  him 
in  certain  positions  where  his  speaking  talents 
were  called  into  conspicuous  action.  One  of 
these  occasions  was  on  his  first  visit  to  the 
Grecian  metropolis. 

Persecution  at  Lystra  and  Berea  obliged 
him  to  flee  to  Athens.  Solitary  and  alone  he 
enters  this  proud  city.  Everywhere  the  mon- 
uments of  the  fine  arts  courted  his  eye.  They 
enfiladed  every  avenue  ;  and  the  streets  and 
squares  were  alive  with  the-  marble  impersona- 
tions of  their  divinities.  How  do  these  things 
affect  the  preacher?  Does  he  give  himself  up 
to  the  strong  historic  associations  which  would 
naturally  invade  a  mind  like  his  ?  He  'is  now 
on  the  very  spot  where  Socrates  taught,  Plato 
lectured,  and  Demosthenes  thundered.  The 
whole  city  is  filled  with  the  memorials  of  hu- 
man genius.  Turn  which  way  he  will,  there  is 
the  chaste  marble  cut  into  almost  living  forms, 
or  frowning  up  in  fluted  columns  and  porti- 


236  ELOQUENT    PEEACHERS. 

cos,  the  fancied  abodes  of  the  gods.  Every- 
where the  smoke  of  incense  is  rising  to  some 
tutelary  deity.  How  is  Paul  affected  by  all 
this  ?  It  touches  his  heart  more  than  his  imag- 
ination. His  spirit  weeps.  "Oh,  ye  deluded 
men/'  he  seems  to  say,  "would  that  I  could 
give  you  my  eyes,  that  you  might  see  the  van- 
ity and  sin  of  this  soul-debasing  worship." 

But  how  shall  he  get  access  to  these  proud 
pagans  ?  There  is  a  forum  there,  where  men 
meet  to  converse  and  to  inquire  after  any  new 
thing.  Thither  goes  the  preacher,  and  pro- 
claims a  new  religion,  wherein  is  revealed 
"the  true  God,  and  Jesus  Christ  whom  he 
hath  sent." 

The  philosophers  who  have  gathered  around 
him  know  not  what  to  make  of  these  strange 
doctrines.  They  would  have  from  him  a  more 
full  and  formal  discourse.  Paul  accedes  to 
their  wishes,  and  from  the  famous  Areopagus 
pronounces  a  sermon  as  sublime  for  its  senti- 
ments as  it  is  chaste  and  beautiful  in  its  style. 
Probably  the  outline  only  is  given  us.  But 
with  this  outline  before  us,  who  would  not 
have  coveted  a  hearing  of  the  whole  grand  dis- 
cussion? To  have  seen  that  eye,  with  heav- 
en's lustre  beaming,  the  halo  of  inspiration 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  237 

encircling  and  irradiating  the  whole  man  ;  to 
have  marked  the  wonder  on  those  sage  faces, 
as  the  great  eternal  realities  were  spread  out 
before  them;  to  have  seen  one  of  their  number 
more  than  interested,  convicted,  weeping  as 
well  as  wondering — to  have  seen  all  this  under 
the  brow  of  the  Acropolis,  while  Christ's  blessed 
name  was  heard  sounding  along  the  porches 
and  pillars  of  heathen  temples,  would  have 
been  an  era  in  any  man's  life.  It  was  one  of 
the  loftiest  triumphs  of  eloquence.  He  spoke  ■ 
of  the  unity  of  God,  in  opposition  to  their 
"lords  many  and  gods  many;"  of  the«spiritu- 
ality  of  God,  in  opposition  to  their  material- 
ism; of  the  sin  of  idolatry;  of  the  duty  of 
repentance ;  of  the  resurrection  and  the  judg- 
ment— themes  as  solemn  as  they  were  new  to 
ears  like  theirs.  No  wonder  Longinus,  the 
great  Grecian  critic,  though  a  pagan,  places 
Paul's  name  among  the  most  eloquent  of  that 

age. 

AT  EPHESUS. 

Ephesus  was  a  central  depOt  of  idolatry. 
Its  magnificent  temple,  dedicated  to  "the  great 
goddess  Diana,"  was  the  resort  of  pilgrims  from 
every  quarter  of  the  world.  This  was  one  of 
the  high  places  where  for  ages  spiritual  wick- 


238-  ELOQUENT  PREACHERS. 

edness  had  held  control.  It  was  a  bold  idea 
in  a  humble  preacher  of  righteousness,  to  think 
of  storming  this  city  of  idolatry.  But  that  idea 
took  possession  of  Paul.  He  opened  his  mes- 
sage first  in  the  synagogue.  Failing  there,  he 
advances  his  moral  artillery  to  a  more  com- 
manding position.  For  two  years  he  preached 
in.  the  school  of  one  Tyrannus — independent 
ground — where  Gentiles  as  well  as  Jews  re- 
sorted to  hear  him.  Here  his  success  was 
great.  By  God's  help  he  struck  an  effectual 
blow  at  idolatry.  Thousands  came  forward 
and  made  confession  of  their  hellish  incanta- 
tions. The  professors  of  sorcery,  smitten  in 
their  consciences,  collected  their  books,  and 
"burned  them  before  all  men" — an  expensive 
bonfire,  amounting  in  value,  it  is  estimated,  to 
over  thirty  thousand  dollars. 

Eeligion  can  never  have  its  triumphs  with- 
out its  trials.  Paul's  powerful  preaching,  under 
God,  had  left  the  porches  of  Diana  with  but 
few  worshippers.  The  whole  city  seemed 
about  to  forsake  their  idols  for  the  worship  of 
the  true  God.  The  sale  of  silver  shrines  had 
fallen  off,  and  Demetrius  the  artificer,  stung 
with  the  loss  of  his  patrons,  raised  a  conspir- 
acy against  Paul,  under  an  assumed  reverence 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  239 

for  the  worship  of  Diana.  This  obliged  Paul 
to  leave  Ephesus.  But  taking  the  whole  cir- 
cumstances into  view,  who  can  deny  or  even 
doubt  that  an  eloquence  which  could  storm 
effectively  this  strongest  entrenchment  of  idol- 
atry must  have  been  of  superhuman  power  ? 

AT  JEKUSALEM. 

Paul's  coming  to  Jerusalem  had  been  an- 
ticipated. It  was  a  great  event.  The  fame  of 
his  eloquence  and  of  his  sufferings  for  Christ 
had  preceded  him.  He  enters  Jerusalem  a 
scarred  veteran  with  the  halo  of  victory  around 
him.  But  the  joy  of  his  reception  is  not  unat- 
tended with  fear  and  solicitude.  His  enemies 
are  on  his  track.  The  moment  his  presence  is 
recognized,  a  storm  of  popular  fury  bursts  upon 
him.  He  is  dragged  from  the  gates  of  the  tem- 
ple and  given  up  to  the  mob.  "Away  with 
him,"  is  the  terrific  cry. 

At  this  juncture  the  Eoman  official,  whose 
duty  it  was  to  keep  the  peace,  interposes  and 
rescues  the  victim.  Thirsting  for  his  blood, 
they  pursue  him  to  the  castle.  Amid  all  this 
uproar  Paul  is  calm.  He  asks  the  privilege  of 
addressing  the  people.  It  is  granted.  Halt- 
ing at  the  foot  of  the  stone  steps,  the  soldiers 


240  ELOQUENT  PBEACHEES. 

draw  their  swords  and  stand  like  a  wall  of  ad- 
amant. High  up  on  the  terrace  by  the  side  of 
the  chief  captain  is  seen  the  preacher,  bruised 
and  bleeding,  preparing  to  speak.  Curiosity 
for  the  moment  triumphs  over  passion,  and 
they  keep  silence.  So  soon  as  that  eloquent 
tongue  is  heard  in  their  own  sacred  dialect, 
the  silence  grows  still  deeper.  An  admirable 
speech  follows.  In  the  first  sentence  is  seen 
the  skill  of  the  orator  seeking  to  propitiate  an 
excited  and  prejudiced  audience.  Having 
gained  their  ear,  he  holds  them  in  rapt  atten- 
tion. For  a  moment  the  eloquent  speaker 
triumphed.  But  having  in  the  course  of  his 
speech  occasion  to  refer  to  the  Gentiles,  that 
hated  word  renewed  the  storm  of  malignant 
passions,  and  Paul  was  hurried  to  a  place  of 
safety.  Was  there  not  evidence  here  of  elo- 
quence of  a  high  order  ? 

BEFOKE  FELIX. 
The  outbreak  at  Jerusalem  led  to  accusa- 
tions which  made  it  necessary  to  subject  Paul 
to  a  trial  before  the  civil  tribunal.  He  was 
ready  for  it.  Conscious  integrity  shrinks  not 
from  even  the  fiercest  ordeal.  Under  an  escort 
he  is  sent  to  Cesarea. 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  241 

At  the  third  hour  of  the  night,  issuing 
out  of  the  gate  of  Jerusalem  with  muffled 
tread,  were  seen  two  hundred  infantry,  sev- 
enty horsemen,  and  two  hundred  spearmen, 
guarding  one  lone  man  of  unsoldier-like  ap- 
pearance. These,  heathen  though  they  be,  are 
God's  guardian  angels. 

The  escort  delivers  over  the  prisoner  to 
Felix, .  together  with  an  official  statement  by 
letter  as  to  who  he  is  and  why  he  is  sent.  The 
reception  is  courteous,  yet  with  imperial  indif- 
ference. Paul  is  promised  a  hearing,  and  is 
then  placed  under  custody. 

He  was  now  in  charge  of  the  Roman  gov- 
ernor, and  surrounded  by  legal  bulwarks.  Vi- 
olence was  of  no  use  now.  If  they  conquer 
him  now,  it  must  be  after  a  fair  encounter  in 
open  court.  Rome  had  some  good  things  to 
boast  of;  and  one  was,  as  Paul  well  knew,  the 
sacred  palladium  of  citizenship. 

In  solemn  pomp  the  high-priest  and  the 
Sanhedrim,  with  their  legal  adviser,  at  length 
appear  and  present  their  charges.  The  for- 
malities of  the  tribunal  are  arranged  on  a  scale 
of  grandeur  commensurate  with  the  occasion. 
By  the  command  of  Felix,  the  prisoner  is 
brought  forth.     The  Jewish  barrister  artfully 

Eloquent  Pre«clisr».  XI 


242  ELOQUENT  PEEAOHEES. 

attempts  to  propitiate  Felix  by  compliments 
as  disgusting  as  they  are  inappropriate,  and 
then  turns  upon  the  accused  the  venom-dipped 
tongue  of  falsehood.  He  aims  at  the  outset  to 
bring  the  apostle  into  contempt  by  calling  him 
"a  pestilent  fellow/'  an  artifice  betraying  not 
only  the  weakness  of  his  cause,  but  the  wick- 
edness of  his  heart.  "He  is  a  mover  of  sedi- 
tion" too.  But  here  the  difficulty  was,  first, 
that  there  was  no  proof  of  it;  second,  there 
was  no  truth  in  it.  "He  is  moreover,"  adds 
Tertullus,  "a  ringleader  of  the  sect  of  the  Naz- 
arenes ;"  a  charge  savoring  of  truth,  yet  intro- 
duced in  a  way  to  imply  something  like  a  riot- 
ous and  dishonorable  leadership,  than  which 
nothing  could  be  more  unjust.  But  the  prin- 
cipal charge,  and  that  on  which  his  enemies 
most  relied  for  his  condemnation,  was  the  crime 
of  sacrilege,  or  the  profanation  of  the  temple. 
If  the  charge  could  have  been  made  out,  Paul 
might  have  been  executed. 

"When  Tertullus  had  finished  his  artful  ha- 
rangue, there  is  applause  among  the  Sanhe- 
drim, and  with  one  voice  they  exclaim,  "Ev- 
ery word  of  it  is  true." 

Now  it  is  Paul's  turn.  He  waits  respect- 
fully until  the  governor  signifies  that  he  may 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  243 

speak.  He  needs  no  Tertullus  to  plead  for 
him.  He  can  plead  his  own  cause.  Truth 
and  innocence  require  no  artificial  rhetoric. 
He  simply  states  the  facts,  and  challenges  his 
accusers  to  disprove  them.  It  is  done  in  a 
concise  but  masterly  manner.  His  reply  is 
calm,  clear,  and  convincing. 

Felix  sees  through  the  plot,  and  breaks  up 
the  court  by  saying  that  he  will  postpone  the 
decision.  Had  he  been  a  noble-minded  Ro- 
man, a  lover  of  truth  and  of  justice,  he  would 
have  knocked  on0  Paul's  chains  and  set  him  at 
liberty.  But  "the  oppressor's  contumely" 
sometimes  subserves  a  purpose  of  God.  He 
even  had  decreed  that  he  should  go  up  to 
Rome  under  the  protection  of  Roman  law. 
No  thanks  to  Felix  for  this.  His  meanness 
and  injustice  in  detaining  an  innocent  man  in 
prison  for  two  whole  years  admit  of  no  apology. 

Felix  was  a  bad  man  every  way.  He  had 
a  wife  who  did  not  lawfully  belong  to  him. 
She  was  the  wife  really  of  another.  What- 
ever her  influence,  being  a  Jewess,  might  have 
been  in  keeping  Paul  under  duress,  we  know 
that  a  mean  and  mercenary  motive  influenced 
Felix.  With  such  motives  he  sends  for  Paul 
to  hear  him  concerning  the  faith  in  Christ. 


244  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

Such  a  preacher  and  such  an  audience  sel- 
dom meet.  The  pomp  and  glitter  of  a  throne 
occupied  by  regal  power;  attendants  numer- 
ous, and  a  guard  mail-clad  and  magnificent: 
such  an  overpowering  display  would  have  in- 
timidated any  less  exalted  spirit  than  that  of 
Paul.     What  was  all  this  to  him  ? 

As  he  enters  the  place  of  hearing,  loaded 
with  chains,  all  eyes  are  upon  him,  those  espe- 
cially which  looked  down  from  the  proconsular 
throne.  The  preacher  knew  his  hearers.  He 
had  explored  their  character,  and  he  knew 
what  kind  of  truths  they  needed.  Every  sen- 
tence was  like  a  flash  of  lightning,  and  every 
word  was  like  one  of  the  hail-stones  of  Reve- 
lation. It  fell  with  startling  emphasis  upon 
the  ears  of  the  guilty. 

Paul  reasoned  of  "righteousness"  to  one 
of  the  most  unrighteous  men  living.  He 
preached  "temperance"  to  one  addicted  to 
beastly  sensuality;  of  "judgment  to  come"  to 
a  man  whose  crimes  had  already,  in  his  own 
conscience,  foreshadowed  his  doom. 

No  wonder  Felix  trembled.  Such  a  ser- 
mon, by  such  a  preacher  to  such  a  sinner,  ac- 
counts for  it.  But  it  was  only  the  conviction 
of  the  conscience,  not  the  contrition  of  the  pen- 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  245 

itent.  What  an  opportunity  was  there  lost! 
Had  Felix  but  improved  it,  even  he  might 
have  found  salvation. 

BEFORE  FESTUS  AND  AGRIPPA. 

In  the  same  grand  halls  of  state,  before  the 
same  throne,  now  occupied  by  the  successor  of 
Felix,  the  incarcerated  preacher  is  permitted 
again  to  vindicate  his  innocence  and  to  explain 
his  doctrine.  The  two  weary  years  of  his  cap- 
tivity had  rolled  away,  and  there  was  some 
hope  now  that  he  might  be  set  at  liberty.  But 
that  hope  died  so  soon  as  Paul  understood  the 
temper  of  Festus  leaning  evidently  towards  his 
accusers.  Hence  his  appeal  to  Cresar.  This 
was  his  right  as  a  Eoman  citizen,  and  now  was 
.the  critical  moment  to  exercise  it. 

For  good  and  sufficient  reasons,  Paul  would 
not  consent  to  have  the  second  trial  take  place 
at  Jerusalem.  The  governor  insisting,  Paul 
replies,  "If  I  have  been  an  offender,'  or  have 
committed  any  thing  worthy  of  death,  I  re- 
fuse not  to  die ;  but  if  there  be  none  of  these 
things  whereof  they  accuse  me,  no  man  may 
deliver  me  unto  them.  I  appeal  unto  Csesar." 
In  the  face  of  Festus,  this  was  bold.  But  it 
settled  the  matter  for  the  present. 


246  ELOQUENT    PEEACHEES. 

Meanwhile  another  regal  character  comes 
into  view — Agrippa.  He  comes  to  salute  the 
new  proconsul.  Festus  is  glad  of  his  arrival, 
for  he  can  consult  with  him  concerning  Paul. 
Agrippa  hails  the  opportunity  to  hear  a  man 
so  noted  for  his  eloquent  advocacy  of  the 
Christian  faith.  Accordingly  great  prepara- 
tions are  made  for  the  hearing.  A  mag- 
nificent assembly  is  convened.  The  whole 
thing  is  on  a  scale  of  imperial  grandeur. 
Agrippa  with  Bernice  gorgeously  arrayed 
enter  the  hall,  and  seat  themselves  on  the 
judgment-seat  beside  Festus.  All  the  princi- 
pal men  of  the  city  are  there,  together  with 
an  imposing  array  of  military  shining  in  their 
imperial  panoply. 

At  the  command  of  Festus,  Paul  is  sent 
for.  The  assembly  is  hushed,  and  every  eye 
is  turned  in  one  direction  as  the  clank  of  chains 
is  heard  in  the  corridor.  A  man  of  moderate 
stature  enters,  of  a  wan  countenance  furrowed 
with  care  and  thought,  his  hands  folded  across 
his  breast,  in  order  to  support  the  weight  of 
fetters  with  which  they  are  encumbered.  Pre- 
ceded by  the  centurion,  he  moves  slowly  into 
the  centre  of  that  vast  assembly.  His  eye  is 
not  dazzled  nor  his  heart  intimidated  by^  this 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  247 

imposing  spectacle.  One  who  has  had  a  vision 
of  God  and  angels,  whose  daily  converse  is 
with  the  King  of  kings,  thinks  but  lightly  of 
the  trappings  of  royalty.  Yet  with  a  respect- 
ful and  courteous  manner  does  he  bow  towards 
the  throne. 

Festus  introduces  the  matter,  going  over 
the  principal  facts,  and  declaring  that  one  ob- 
ject of  the  present  occasion  was  that,  in  con- 
nection with  the  opinion  of  his  royal  guests, 
he  might  have  something  more  definite  to  state 
in  his  letter  to  Augustus.  "Then  Agrippa 
said  unto  Paul,  Thou  art  permitted  to  speak 
for  thyself." 

The  speech  that  followed,  so  familiar  to  all, 
is  a  model  of  earnest  and  eloquent  address, 
rising  as  it  proceeds,  until  it  thrills  every 
hearer,  and  starts  Festus  from  his  throne,  ex- 
claiming, "Paul,  thou  art  beside  thyself;  much 
learning  doth  make  thee  mad." 

"lam  not  mad,  most  noble  Festus,"  is  the 
courteous  reply;  "but  speak  forth  the  words 
of  truth  and  soberness.  King  Agrippa  know- 
eth  of  these  things,  before  whom  I  also  speak 
freely."  Then  turning  to  Agrippa,  "King 
Agrippa,  believest  thou  the  prophets?"  A 
pause.     "  I  know  that  thou  believest." 


248  ELOQUENT  PBEACHEKS. 

The  appeal  has  touched  Agrippa's  heart. 
In  a  voice  tremulous  with  emotion  he  cries  out, 
regardless  of  the  proprieties,  "Almost  thou 
persuadest  me  to  be  a  Christian."  Seizing 
this  concession,  the  orator,  lifting  up  his  hands 
burdened  with  a  weight  of  chains,  and  with  an 
eye  upturned  to  heaven,  and  as  if  addressing 
both  God  and  man  in  the  same  breath,  ex- 
claims, "I  would  to  G-od,  that  not  only  thou, 
but  also  all  that  hear  me  this  day,  were  both 
almost  and  altogether  such  as  I  am,  except 
these  bonds." 

It  is  useless  to  say  what  we  think  of  this 
strain  of  Pauline  eloquence.  Should  we  put  it 
on  a  par  with  that  of  Demosthenes,  we  might 
be  accused  perhaps  of  official  partiality.     But 

•m 

judging  of  its  power  by  its  effects,  we  should 
say  that  few  speakers,  on  record  can  surpass 
this.  It  brought  Festus  to  his  feet,  and  made 
Agrippa  almost  a  Christian. 

PAUL'S  ELOQUENCE  JUDGED  OF  BY  HIS 
WHITINGS. 

We  judge  of  the  eloquence  of  uninspired 
preachers  in  part  by  their  published  sermons. 
The  same  rule  might  not  perhaps  apply  to  the 
inspired  preacher.     His  hand  is  held,  as  it 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  249 

were,  by  the  hand  of  God.  What  he  writes 
is,  in  a  sense,  the  eloquence  of  the  overshad- 
owing Spirit.  To  appreciate  the  efforts  of  hu-. 
man  genius,  requires  a  sympathizing  genius  in 
the  reader.  So,  to  have  a  right  and  full  im- 
pression of  an  inspired  composition,  the  eye  of 
the  reader  should  have  caught  some  of  the 
radiance  that  touched  the  soul  of  the  writer. 
Still  we  must  allow  that  inspiration  destroys 
not  the  stamp  of  individuality  which  marks  the 
sacred  writers.  Each  has  his  own  peculiar 
style  easily  distinguishable ;  so  that,  were 
Paul's  name  or  John's  not  appended  to  his 
epistles,  it  would  be  no  very  difficult  task  to 
identify  the  respective  authors. 

Take  the  Epistle  to  the  Romans  as  an 
exponent  of  the  intellectual  character  of  its 
author.  It  is  a  great  discourse  on  great 
themes.  In  it  may  be  found  every  attribute 
of  an  admirable  if  not  perfect  style ;  while  as 
a  whole  it  resembles  a  finished  piece  of  archi- 
tecture, strong,  symmetrical,  and  graceful.. 
The  oration  of  Demosthenes  on  the  crowD  is 
not  a  more  sure  index  of  the  genius  of  its  au- 
thor, than  is  this  sublime  epistle  of  the  elo- 
quence of  St.  Paul. 

Many  circumstances  conspired  to  carry  up 


250  ELOQUENT    PKEACHEES. 

this  composition  to  so  unequalled  an  elevation. 
His  soul  was  filled  with  the  inspiration  of  God. 
The  place  and  people  wrought  mightily  upon 
him.  It  was  to  go  to  Rome,  that  peerless  city, 
the  centre  of  power  and  influence,  where  sci- 
ence and  art  had  reached  a  perfection  hitherto 
unknown.  It  was  to  a  church  composed  in 
part  of  the  elite  of  Rome's  citizens.  All  these 
things  combined  to  make  this  epistle  a  produc- 
tion of  great  force  and  eloquence.  In  it  the 
author's  power  as  a  logician  comes  into  view. 
He  reasons  abstractly  and  also  on  admitted 
facts.  Sometimes  the  stream  of  argument 
flows  on  clear  and  calm,  and  then  breaking 
into  the  abruptness  of  the  Socratic  mode, 
makes  its  way  with  the  force  of  a  cataract.  His 
aim  is  to  drive  the  Jew  from  forms  to  faith  in 
Christ,  and  to  shut  up  the  Gentile  to  the  same 
faith.  He  closes  up  every  avenue  to  heaven 
but  one.  To  that  one  he  points  continually, 
saying,  There,  where  the  cross  is  seen,  where 
the  atoning  blood  is  seen,  there  only  is  the  road. 
As  he  proceeds,  his  soul,  by  its  own  impet- 
uosity, takes  fire,  and  he  actually  glows  amid 
his  own  radiance.  You  see  the  flashes  of  feel- 
ing mingling  with  the  forms  of  logic.  When 
his  reasoning  reaches  the  cross,  that  great  cen- 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  251 

tral  point  of  interest,  as  it  does  from  whatso- 
ever point  he  starts,  it  loses  itself  in  rapturous 
emotion.  As  his  eye  catches  a  view  of  that 
cross,  it  kindles,  it  weeps.  Every  thing  is  in- 
stantly in  a  glow.  He  forgets  to  reason.  He 
cries  out  in  passionate  sorrow  at  man's  dull 
understanding,  or  breaks  forth  in  seraphic  de- 
votion, as  if  he  saw  the  Son  of  man  in  his  glory. 
Thus,  from  beginning  to  end,  we  challenge  a 
comparison  in  behalf  of  this  production  with 
any  writings,  ancient  or  modern,  whether  they 
be  treatises  on  the  worship  of  God  or  on  the 
virtues  of  man. 

Paul's  character  as  a  preacher  is  intimately 
connected  with  his  style  and  manner  as  a  writ- 
er. It  is  impossible  to  read  his  epistles  with- 
out forming  some  idea  of  him.  as  a  preacher. 
We  thus  approach  at  least  some  just  impres- 
sion of  his  sacred  oratory. 

And  yet  Paul  himself  has,  in  one  of  his 
epistles,  intimated  that  the  Corinthians  object- 
ed to  his  preaching,  while  they  admired  his 
writings.  It  should  be  remembered,  however, 
that,  according  to  the  standard  of  taste  which 
prevailed  at  Corinth — formed  on  the  most  per- 
fect models  of  the  Grecian  schools — where  com- 
pass of  voice  and  grace  of  gesture  and  the  pol- 


252  ELOQUENT  PKEACHEES. 

isli  of  periods  entered  largely  into  their  estimate 
of  oratory,  Paul  would  not  be  rated  among  the 
very  first.  He  went  unto  them,  not  "with  ex- 
cellency of  speech;"  that  is,  not  studying  to 
reach  the  high  classic  finish  of  the  Attic  school. 
Nor  was  he  careful  probably  to  cultivate  or 
exhibit  much  gracefulness  of  manner.  He  was 
mainly  anxious  to  find  his  way  to  their  hearts 
and  consciences ;  and  hence  they  spoke  sneer- 
ingly  of  his  address.  But  that  Paul  was  not  a 
powerful  preacher,  that  he  was  not  eloquent  in 
the  best  sense  of  the  art — meaning  by  elo- 
quence power  to  convince  the  judgment,  rouse 
the  sensibilities,  and  touch  the  heart — that  in 
all  these  respects  he  was  not  the  eloquent 
preacher,  no  man  can  make  us  believe.  The 
power,  by  a  few  sentences,  to  still  an  infuriate 
mob,  to  shake  a  tyrant  on  his  throne,  and 
compel  another  to  start  from  his  seat  in  con- 
vulsive agony,  while  a  third  is  ready  almost  to 
give  up  heathenism  for  Christianity — such  a 
power  is  indicative  not  only  of  inspired  ener- 
gy, but  of  sublime  eloquence. 

And  now  let  us  ask,  Wherein  resided  this 
power  ?  Undoubtedly  in  the  divinely  wrought 
character  of  the  man.  It  was  one  of  unequal- 
led purity.     Self  was  sacrificed  to  the  glory  of 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  253 

G-od  and  the  good  of  man.  The  Old  Testa- 
ment, together  with  all  the  collateral  history, 
was  stereotyped  upon  his  memory.  He  was 
versed  also  in  Grecian  learning.  To  this  must 
be  added  a  keen  insight  and  thorough  know- 
ledge of  mankind.  Thus  furnished,  and  with 
a  wisdom  that  could  most  effectively  bring  that 
knowledge  to  bear,  he  was  on  all  occasions 
perfect  master  of  his  subject.  He  was  calm 
and  self-possessed.  This  arose  from  his  indif- 
ference to  the  opinions  of  the  world,  and  his 
entire  absorption  in  the  great  matter  on  hand. 
His  reputation  he  had  laid  down  at  the  foot  of 
the  cross.  Life  and  death  were  not  with  him 
the  great  questions,  but  truth  and  duty.  Hence 
there  was  neither  perturbation  nor  failure. 
Such  was  this  inspired  preacher  as  he  went 
forth  with  that  one  great  idea,  "Christ,  and 
him  crucified,"  burnt  into  his  very  soul. 

The  leading  trait  of  his  character  was  ac- 
tion. "Lord,  what  wilt  thou  have  me  to  do?11 
The  impulse,  the  ability,  and  the  will  to  do, 
were  all  his.  The  same  unyielding,  indomita- 
ble energy  characterized  him  both  before  and 
after  his  conversion.  But  in  the  latter  case  it 
was  raised  to  a  pitch  of  grandeur  from  the  na- 
ture of  the  enterprise  to  which  it  was  conse- 


254  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

crated.  The  current  of  his  soul's  affections 
setting  in  this  new  and  heaven-directed  chan- 
nel, pressed  onward  with  an  impetuosity  that 
swept  every  thing  before  it.  His  life  was  "a 
living  sacrifice."  With  this  energy  was  com- 
bined a  sublime  unity  of  purpose  ;  so  that,  in 
his  own  expressive  words,  "To  him  to  live  was 
Christ." 

Paul's  religious  life  had  depth  as  well  as 
height.  The  structure  that  rose  so  high,  so 
near  to  heaven,  could  never  have  stood  the 
shocks  which  it  received,  had  it  not  been  im- 
bedded deep  in  the  soul,  resting  on  ' '  the  Rock 
of  ages."  His  religion  blended  itself  with  all 
his  forms  of  thought,  with  all  his  affections, 
with  all  his  deportment,  putting  on  him  a  grace 
and  polish,  a  celestial  refinement  even,  which 
is  as  superior  to  mere  human  culture  as  the 
natural  flower,  with  its  beauty  and  its  fra- 
grance, is  to  the  tawdry  and  inodorous  arti- 
ficial one. 

But  Paul  was  one  of  whom  the  world  was 
not  worthy;  and  so  heaven,  long  waiting  for 
his  coming,  at  length  claimed  him  as  her  own. 
The  seat  in  glory — a  high  one — was  ready  for 
him.  And  now  "Paul  the  aged,"  worn  out 
with  labors  and  sufferings,  scarred  from  head 


THE  APOSTLE  PAUL.  255 

to  foot  in  the  battles  which  he  had  fought  for 
truth  and  holiness,  surrenders  himself  to  the 
tyrant,  enters  the  dungeon,  and  awaits  the  sig- 
nal for  martyrdom.  By  that  dungeon's  dim 
light,  within  hearing  perhaps  of  the  roar  of  the 
half-starved  lions  of  the  amphitheatre,  he  dic- 
tated his  dying  message :  "I  am  now  ready  to 
be  offered ;  and  the  time  of  my  departure  is  at 
hand.  I  have  fought  a  good  fight ;  I  have  fin- 
ished my  course  ;  I  have  kept  the  faith.  Hence- 
forth there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of  right- 
eousness which  the  Lord  the  righteous  Judge 
shall  give  me  in  that  clay." 

Can  any  thing  be  added  to  this  ?  Can  we 
ask  for  any  thing  more  ?  A  more  glorious  life 
and  a  more  glorious  close  of  life  have  never 
been  witnessed  among  mortals.  Here  the  cur- 
tain drops.  The  last  scene  is  the  dungeon ;  the 
last  words,  the  triumphant  ones  just  quoted. 
The  rest  is  left  to  our  imaginations.  The  road 
from  that  dungeon  to  the  amphitheatre  was 
short.  He  trod  it,  we  doubt  not,  with  a  firm 
step,  a  fearless,  yea,  even  an  exultant  heart. 
He  was  in  sight  of  the  goal  and  of  the  crown. 
One  momentary  pang  put  him  in  possession. 

But  such  a  man  never  dies.  We  do  not 
look  upon  him  as  dead.     He  lives  in  his  epis- 


256  ELOQUENT   PEEACHEES. 

ties,  in  his  example,  in  his  spirit,  The  death- 
scene  seems  to  have  been  shrouded  from  us 
purposely,  that  we  may  think  less  of  the  mor- 
tal and  more  of  the  immortal  man.  By  the 
grace  of  God  he  reached  his  peerless  eleva- 
tion. But  we  can  discern  his  foot-prints  and 
see  the  direction  in  which  they  tend.  We  can 
catch  a  glimpse  of  him  in  the  high  up  and  far 
distant  flight.  Where  he  fixed  his  eye,  we 
may  fix  ours.  "  I  press  towards  the  mark." 
That  mark  was  Christ;  to  win  whom  and  to 
be  found  in  whom  was,  to  St.  Paul,  worth  a 
life-long  struggle,  and  more  than  compensated 
for  all  the  terrors  of  martyrdom. 


DATE  DUE 


1NHU.ft«M»ljgj|p* 


GAVUORD 


aRINTED|NU 


